


of heaven and earth

by aretes



Series: the middle [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Ancient China, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Court Shenanigans, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Royalty, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 12:20:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 31,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24849664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aretes/pseuds/aretes
Summary: between the swords and brushes, walls and corridors, silks and blossoms - between heaven and earth, they find love
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung
Series: the middle [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797712
Comments: 35
Kudos: 111





	1. the poet

**Author's Note:**

> welcome! i’m so excited to share this fic with you all - it was an absolute joy to write because I grew up with stories of chinese history. so yes, i wrote exclusively with ancient china in mind (there’s historical references! i’ll nerd out in the endnotes as they show up) but since we’re dealing with a cast of characters of multiple ethnicities, i’ve tried to make this fic as flexible as possible for readers. i’ve translated most titles/honorifics/proper nouns to english, but kept some honorifics in chinese based on what felt natural. i’ve also omitted courtesy names and alternate titles for the princes because that would mean coming up with at least one other name for each character and i would lose my mind trying to do that. if you have any questions, you can find me on twitter or cc! please enjoy!

Dong Sicheng sets down his brush carefully, a soft smile gracing his features as he examines the poem. Satisfied with his work, he moves to clean his brushes.

“Sir!” a young boy scurries in, setting the basket in his hand on a side table before rushing to Sicheng’s side. “Let me do that for you.”

Sicheng smiles fondly, but stands up, allowing the boy to take over even as he says, “There’s no need, A Hyuck. I can clean my brushes perfectly well on my own.”

“Sir Dong should not have to dirty his hands,” the boy insists, already rolling up sleeves.

Sicheng sighs, before turning his attention to the basket. “What is this, Hyuck?”

“Oh!” Donghyuck perks up excitedly, “It’s from the kitchens. Auntie Xu made lotus cakes and wanted you to have some.”

Sicheng opens the basket excitedly, removing the stacked boxes. Lifting the cloth lining the bottom-most box, he quickly pockets the folded parchment he finds underneath. 

“Hyuck! Don’t clean my brushes! Come here and eat some cake.”

Confused but used to Sicheng’s antics by now, Donghyuck sets the jar of clean water on Sicheng’s desk before helping himself to a piece. 

“Did Auntie Xu say anything else?” Sicheng asks as he scarfs down a cake before hurrying back to his desk.

“No,” Hyuck responds. “She just said to deliver these to you since she made extra.”

Sicheng hums in response, setting a fresh sheet of parchment on his desk. “Hyuck, the flowers in my bedroom are wilting, would you run outside and replace them for me?”

Donghyuck beams, eagerly retrieving a basket from Sicheng’s shelves before rushing back out into the spring sunlight.

With Donghyuck out of sight, Sicheng carefully unfolds the parchment from his pocket. 

_The Yellow River branches into streams: some stubbornly follow the old path and some slowly but surely trickle to a stop. The farmer who lives by the river ventures into the city and learns to guide the river with dams and trenches. It proves to be long but effective work, and he tells his family not to worry. The twin blossoms watch over him.._

Interesting. Sicheng rereads the letter, making sure he’s caught all the details before he burns it on a nearby candle. Dipping his brush in the still wet ink, he begins to write carefully.

_Humans may guide and control nature, but nature’s force is not to be tested. Remember, to control is one, to harness is another._

Sicheng pauses, and hesitates before finishing: _Even nature’s beauty is deceptive - blossoms often fade when the harsh winter comes._

Once the ink is passably dry, Sicheng quickly folds the thin parchment and tucks it back underneath the box’s cloth. By the time Donghyuck returns with the garden flowers, happily arranging them in Sicheng’s vase, Sicheng is seated at his desk once again.

“A Hyuck, there are a few cakes left in the topmost layer. Split them among yourself and the other children before returning the box to Auntie Xu, alright?”

Hyuck nods and bows in thanks. “Thank you for your kindness Sir Dong.”

Sicheng waves him off with a pang in his heart. 

***

Sicheng is still thinking about the letter when he takes his afternoon stroll through the palace gardens. The circumstances could go either way for them, he muses. With the impending death of Madam Huang and Marquis Huang’s insistence on the old ways, the Huang family would soon fall out of favor with the Emperor. That would leave Renjun free or even allow him to take over for the Huangs if he plays his cards correctly.

 _But the twin blossoms_...Sicheng frowns. If Renjun is indeed intending to head to the Huang family, his young age would require powerful support from inside the court. Renjun is too smart to be relying solely on them, but Sicheng doesn’t see anyone else in court Renjun has a hold on. 

Sicheng sighs.

“Why the long face, Sir Dong?”

Sicheng turns and immediately bows upon seeing the blue robes. “Advisor Kim.”

Kim Doyoung smiles and urges Sicheng upright with a touch of his elbows. “You know there’s no need for such formalities between us.”

“Well,” Sicheng smiles, “You _are_ the advisor to the 3rd Prince now.”

Doyoung chuckles, signaling for Sicheng to keep walking. “Yes, it is an honor. Unfortunately I will not have as much time to come discuss poetry with you now.”

“You were never meant for a quiet poet’s life like me, Advisor. Your talents are much more varied and practical.”

Doyoung hums, and Sicheng can tell he’s satisfied with his new position. He’s happy for Doyoung, who’s the closest thing to a friend that Sicheng has found here in his three years at court.

“I’ve heard the 3rd Prince is an admirer of the arts too?” Sicheng prompts.

“Yes, Prince Jaehyun has quite the taste. He’s complimented your poems, you know.”

“It’s an honor,” Sicheng responds. “How are things at court?”

Doyoung glances at him. “Quite tame, there’s not much to fear now.”

He stops to caress the roses before continuing, “There is some unrest among the noble families - now that many of the sons have entered court, the old generation is losing power.”

Sicheng nods. So Renjun was likely planning to step in for the Huang family.

“I have a brother,” he says.

Doyoung continues walking. “I know.” 

Of course. Doyoung knew everything. 

“He’s the adopted son of the Huang family.” 

As expected, there’s no response from Doyoung. Neither of them are surprised. They continue walking.

A few moments later, Doyoung speaks, “He can succeed if he plays his cards right.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

Doyoung stops. “You want me to say that I’ll help him. But I will not promise you that.”

Sicheng opens his mouth to protest, but Doyoung continues, “Sicheng, do you know where we are?”

Sicheng looks up at the red and green palace. He didn’t realize they’d come so far, or that his own modest lodging was so close to the Western complexes. “The Palace of Eternal Spring.”

“Huang Renjun will not need my help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Palace of Eternal Spring is part of the Western complexes of the Forbidden City, where the emperor’s concubines lived.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/chensdaes)   
> 


	2. the prince

Prince Jaehyun squints at the bullseye, arrow notched and ready. Stretching the bow back, he lets it fly and it lands true, shaft still quivering at the impact.

“Good shot, prince.”

Jaehyun turns and grins at the approaching figures, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Commander Lee, Advisor Kim.”

“3rd Prince,” Doyoung greets as he bows gracefully, Taeyong following suit a bit less smoothly in his armor.

Jaehyun waves his hand and Doyoung straightens with a small smile. For once, Jaehyun’s glad he’s so flushed from exercising.

“The 4th Prince and the 6th Prince have returned. The Emperor is requesting an audience.”

***

When the three men enter the Emperor’s Palace, the 4th Prince and 6th Prince have already arrived.

“Father,” Jaehyun greets, kneeling and bowing low to the ground.

“Your Majesty,” Doyoung and Taeyong kneel behind Jaehyun.

“Rise! Rise!” the Emperor says, “Today is a fortunate day, Jaebum and Jungho have returned victoriously.”

The princes bow as they are mentioned. 

“My congratulations to you, Jaebum and Jungho.” Jaehyun smiles, bowing. 

Doyoung follows Jaehyun as he moves to stand to the right of the Emperor and Taeyong leaves to stand at the Commander General’s side. “Welcome back, Father,” he greets quietly and the Commander pats him on the back.

“Now that Jaehyun has arrived, continue your report Commander.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. The rebelling forces in the North have retreated after we captured and executed their leader. We attempted to mitigate the damage but civilian lives were still lost.”

Jaehyun frowns.

“Jaehyun, what do you think?” The Emperor asks.

Placing his hands together in a shallow bow, Jaehyun responds, “Father, I believe the course of action taken was most efficient, but I do not think it is a long-term solution.”

The Emperor chuckles, satisfied with his answer.

“Father,” the 6th Prince steps out. “While civilian lives are certainly important, I believe too much caution was taken. When I arrived in the heart of the rebellion after securing the surrounding cities, the civilians were rioting and causing severe damage to military supplies.”

“Father,” the 4th Prince interjects, jaw tight with tension. “I disagree with Jungho. The caution we took was necessary in ensuring peace in the area. The riots Jungho refers to were not driven by civilians but rather the rebelling forces, and we found that local civilians are not necessarily supporting them.”

The Emperor nods thoughtfully. “Commander Lee?”

Taeyong’s father steps out. “Your Majesty, the 4th Prince is correct. Most civilians are not supporting the rebel forces in the North.”

“Very well.” the Emperor muses. Jungho returns to the side with a sour look on his face, glaring at Jaebum, who only inclines his head calmly.

“In honor of Commander Lee and the 4th Prince’s victory, we shall have a feast to celebrate. A Zhao!” The Emperor’s secretary hurries in. “Alert the Empress and the officials!”

“You all are dismissed,” he directs towards the princes and commanders. “Ah, Jaehyun, stay behind.”

Jaehyun bows as the rest, including Doyoung, leave.

“Jaehyun,” the Emperor continues, “How are you and Kim Doyoung getting along?”

“Advisor Kim is very talented and treats me well Father. He is gifted in poetry as well as politics - his poems and essays are both of the highest caliber. I am very grateful that you appointed him to me.”

The Emperor hums, satisfied. “Use him well, Jaehyun. He has much potential that you should take advantage of.”

“Yes Father.”

“You may leave.”

“I take leave.” Jaehyun bows and backs up a few steps before turning and walking out of the Palace. 

Stepping over the tall threshold, Jaehyun scans the surroundings for Doyoung, before seeing the blue-robed figure conversing with Taeyong at the base of the long stairs leading up to the Palace. His heart twitches irrationally at the sight.

When Jaehyun arrives at the bottom, Taeyong bows to him before walking towards the palace gates, most likely to catch up with his father. 

Doyoung bows and smiles at Jaehyun. “3rd Prince.”

Swallowing down the fluttering in his stomach, Jaehyun returns the slight smile and signals Doyoung to follow as he heads towards the stables. 

“What did you think of the meeting?” Jaehyun asks as they walk across the square. Servants are running around busily in preparation for the feast. 

Doyoung subtly surveys their surroundings before responding. “I’m afraid I’m not well-suited for military strategy, Prince.” Jaehyun resists the urge to scoff at Doyoung’s modesty. “But the 4th Prince seems very capable indeed. As for the 6th Prince…” he trails off. They both know without saying how embarrassing the meeting had been for the 6th Prince.

As they approach the outer edges of the palace complex, Doyoung asks, “If you are willing to share, 3rd Prince, what did His Majesty speak to you about?”

Jaehyun turns to look at Doyoung, who appears as calm as usual, chin up and hands folded neatly behind his back. They’re nearly the same height, Doyoung’s broad, silk covered shoulders only slightly below his own. Growing up, Jaehyun had always been in awe of the poise and elegance that Official Kim’s child prodigy possesed. Rumor was that the Emperor had immediately given Doyoung a position in court after reading the 16 year-old’s commentary on a political journal, and had even berated his officials for being shown-up by a child’s wits and conduct.

Lost in admiration, Jaehyun is surprised when Doyoung’s soft, dark eyes meet his. “Oh, yes. Father was just asking how we were getting along.”

Doyoung’s eyebrows knit ever so slightly. 

“There’s nothing to worry about. I told him how talented you are and I’m really grateful to have you with me and I can tell he admires you too so don’t worry, it’s nothing bad.” Jaehyun blushes when he finishes, realizing that he was rambling.

Doyoung just nods and smiles softly when they reach the stables. Jaehyun is sure his ears are a furious red now, and he thanks the heavens for their timely arrival as he swings himself onto his horse and sets off for his manor, Doyoung following right behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Secretary Zhao essentially performs the role that a eunuch would, but I do not want to make my character a eunuch :(  
> \- Princes usually lived outside of the Imperial Palace in manors (really large traditional Chinese residence) once they grew up.
> 
> [character aesthetics!!](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae/status/1275127624948305921?s=20) will be updated as more are introduced :)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/chensdaes)   
> 


	3. the advisor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick clarification about ages: real age differences between the characters are preserved, except there are 4 additional years between 97 and 98 (so Doyoung is 20, Jaehyun and Sicheng are 19, Jungwoo is 15, 00 line is 13)

Back in the 3rd Prince’s manor, Doyoung stands next to the open doors of the study, looking out into the courtyard. It’s only been a few weeks since he was appointed as the prince’s advisor, but so much has already happened.

He’s sure the Emperor appointed him to help Jaehyun become the Crown Prince. The timeline fits - a new generation of officials are emerging, the North is temporarily settled, and the Emperor is growing old. Which means his main role, really, is to…

“Advisor Kim.”

“Your Highness,” Doyoung turns and bows.

“Are you ready for the feast tonight?” Changed out of his armor and into the lush red robes of a favored prince, Jaehyun walks to stand next to Doyoung. 

“Yes, Your Highness. I suspect it will be an eventful night for the 4th Prince, though I can’t say the same for us.”

“Oh?” Jaehyun turns to meet Doyoung’s eyes, lips quirking up. “What are you expecting tonight?”

Doyoung plays along. “The 4th Prince - and the Commander General - will be rewarded for the victory. My guess is that Your Majesty will give him jurisdiction over the Bureau of Investigation and Intelligence.”

Jaehyun nods, frowning. “Jungho will not be happy.”

“Certainly not, Your Highness.”

“And what do you think about our next move?”

At that, Doyoung’s signature close-lipped smile threatens to split open. “How do you feel about finance?”

***

“Another toast to Commander Lee!” The Emperor roars, raising his goblet.

“To Commander Lee!” the attendees thunder, bowing to the Commander General.

The feast is the largest gathering of the royal court since the new year - all the royal family members, their entourage, and the court officials are present, and with the Northern expedition back in the capital, most of the ranking military personnel have made it as well.

Seated behind Jaehyun, on the nearest right to the Emperor, Doyoung is given a nearly omniscient view of the Great Hall. Perks of being the eldest and favorite son. 

Doyoung keeps a mental record of attendance as he scans the Hall. To his surprise, Sicheng is present, though he doesn’t look too happy about it. Doyoung suppresses the urge to sigh at his friend. Renjun is far too young and unimportant to be invited to these feasts. 

Although, the twin blossoms  _ were _ present. Maybe Sicheng had a point after all. Looking across the way to the Commander General’s table, Doyoung could see the creamy robes of the Commander’s youngest son: Lee Jeno. Ever since they were young, Jeno was always kind beyond his years, sharing his miniature toy weapons with the other children and smiling at everyone he met. Now that he was in court...Doyoung would be lying if he said he wasn’t concerned about the boy. Meeting Taeyong’s eyes, Doyoung raises his eyebrows discretely and Taeyong angles his head towards the door. They’d talk about it later.

Glancing further down the hall, Doyoung’s eyes settle on a figure clothed in pink robes. The 8th Prince. If he were older, Prince Jaemin would be another formidable threat to Jaehyun’s claim to the throne. Handsome and charming, everyone in court wooed over the prince who was as beautiful as the pink cherry blossoms. He and Jeno had been attached at the hip since Doyoung could remember, earning them the nickname of the twin blossoms - Jaemin pink, Jeno white. Would Renjun prove to be a sturdy branch for these lovely yet still naive flowers?

Doyoung’s musing is interrupted by the court dancers running in gracefully to take their positions in the wide middle aisle, each facing a guest’s table. Doyoung mentally rolls his eyes at the 6th Prince, who is leering up at the female dancer, already too drunk. The impending announcement hasn’t even been made yet. Jungho is really just making his situation worse.

As the dancers begin to whirl their skirts, Doyoung sees the 5th Prince shift out of the corner of his eye. Ever the artistic soul, Prince Jungwoo discreetly pulls out a brush set and parchment, evidently preparing to sketch the flurry of movement. He’s lucky this court is a patron of the arts, Doyoung thinks fondly. With the exception of Prince Jungho, any of his other brothers would likely leave the soft-spoken Jungwoo alive if they ascended the throne.

Temporarily brushing the princes away, Doyoung focuses his attention on the officials sitting on the farther end of the Hall. This is what he really needs to accomplish. As expected, many of the older officials are already tipsy, grinning predatorily up at the dancers. Disgusting. Doyoung feels a twinge of guilt when he sees Minister Liu politely nodding in appreciation at the performance, but quickly steels himself. The old loyalists must be taken down to pave Jaehyun’s path. Sitting behind the Minister of Liu is Official Moon. Moon Taeil has remained impressively low-profile for someone who entered the ranks at such a young age. At eighteen, Taeil was one of the youngest scholars in history to be appointed a royal official. After passing the civil exam with flying colors, the court had been buzzing with talk of the boy who came from a no-name family - he’d surely become a department head in no time, they’d speculated. But Taeil had quickly faded into the background, and four years later, he was still only one of the many officials in the Ministry of Revenue.

Doyoung narrows his eyes. A man as smart as Taeil must have carefully constructed his career in the court, so what game is he playing? Doyoung intends to find out by the end of the night.

***

As the dancers file out of the hall, the Emperor raises his goblet and the hall falls silent.

“Today is an auspicious day. We must thank the heavens for their aid in protecting the unity of Da Jiang.” The Emperor raises his goblet to the skies and drinks, the attendees following suit. 

“Our victory in the North was possible under the leadership of Commander General Lee and Prince Jaebum.” The two men bow. “As such, we must reward them for their hard work. A Zhao.”

Secretary Zhao steps forward, reading from a scroll: “Commander General Lee, Your Majesty presents you with five chests of gold, delivered to your manor.”

The old Commander Lee bows. “Commander General thanks you for your generosity, Your Majesty.”

“Prince Jaebum is rewarded two chests of gold and jurisdiction over the Bureau of Investigation and Intelligence.” Secretary Zhao continues.

Murmurs rise from the audience. Without turning around, Jaehyun inclines his head ever so slightly, but Doyoung catches it and smiles internally at Jaehyun’s acknowledgement. Down the hall, Jungho’s knuckles turn white from how hard he’s clenching his robes, his advisor whispering urgently in his ear, likely preventing him from acting rashly.

The Hall quiets when Prince Jaebum rises and bows. “Prince Jaebum thanks Your Majesty.”

When Jaebum takes a seat again, tension crackles in the silence. Doyoung looks around, seeing many officials’ foreheads furrowed. Official Moon’s only response is the slightest nod of approval which he quickly disguises as he lowers his head to examine his meal. Doyoung is glad to see that they share the sentiment: competence should always be acknowledged.

Jaehyun’s robes rustle as he stands, holding his goblet out towards Jaebum. Smiling, he announces, “A toast for your victory, brother, and sincere congratulations for acquiring the Bureau.”

He bows and drinks, before taking a seat, and slowly, other princes and officials down the hall begin congratulating Jaebum as well. 

Doyoung smiles visibly this time. It’s much easier to work with a smart prince. He pities Jungho’s advisor.

***

By the time the feast ends, most of the royal family is drunk and being carried back to their carriages. Doyoung walks slightly behind a relievingly sober Jaehyun as they descend the stairs.

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride back to your residence, Advisor Kim?” Jaehyun asks when they arrive at the base of the stairs.

“Thank you for the offer, Your Highness, but I have a few acquaintances I’d like to catch up with and wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” Doyoung bows. “Have a safe ride.”

As Jaehyun’s carriage rolls out towards the gates, Taeyong comes to stand by Doyoung. 

“He’s a good one.”

“He is.” Doyoung affirms, with a slight smile.

They walk side-by-side as Doyoung heads towards the crowd of departing officials, hoping to find an opportunity to speak with Moon Taeil. Doyoung greets the officials, asking after their families and work, familiar with many of them from his years in the court. Taeyong bows politely too, conversing with old family friends. But after working their way through the rapidly diminishing crowd, there’s still no sign of Official Moon.

Doyoung sighs. “Looks like he left early.”

Taeyong hums non-committedly in response.

“So, why was Jeno here tonight?”

“Heard too many of Prince Jaemin’s stories of court I suppose. He wanted to come and you know Father can’t deny him anything.”

Doyoung nods thoughtfully. “Well, now’s as good a time as any for him to enter court.”

“That’s what I thought too.” Taeyong pauses to look at Doyoung. “You’ll look after him though?”

“You, Jeno’s eldest brother, are literally the Commander of the Imperial Guards and in charge of palace security.”

“You know what I mean,” Taeyong insists.

Doyoung only eyes him, long suffering, but Taeyong seems placated by the response. They head towards the gates on foot.

The Kim and Lee families were always close, and being nearly the same age, Doyoung and Taeyong had known each other as long as they could remember. Taeyong was the one who taught Doyoung how to win duels with his little wooden sword, and Doyoung was the one who stayed up all night with Taeyong studying when he was scolded for failing to memorize the poems their tutor assigned.

“Oh yes, how poetry has helped me today,” Taeyong drawls sarcastically when Doyoung brings it up.

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “Imagine the mindless military buffoon you’d be today without the refinement of poetry. We all knew you’d be a general when you grew up, but that doesn’t mean you can just forgo an education in the classics.”

Taeyong pouts and grumbles at the insult. “Well I don’t see you keeping up your swordship either.”

Doyoung whacks him on the shoulder, laughing when Taeyong pleads for mercy.

Suddenly, Taeyong’s eyes go sharp and he shoves Doyoung down right as a knife flies by Doyoung’s ear and embeds itself in the wall. 

Taeyong sprints in the direction the knife came from, flying down an alleyway. Doyoung carefully rises from the ground, dusting off his robes before yanking the knife out of the wall. After examining the weapon, he hurries after Taeyong, calling him.

“Taeyong! Taeyong! You can stop chasing!”

A few moments later, Taeyong comes rushing back from another alleyway and grabs the knife out of Doyoung’s hands, examining the clever blade. His gaze darkens.

“You know what this means.”

Doyoung nods solemnly. The game has begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- The Ministry of Revenue is one of 6 ministries (personnel, revenue, rites, defense/war, justice, works) that historically made up the ancient Chinese bureaucracy, although it varied a bit throughout the dynasties  
> \- Da Jiang (大江) translates to Great Jiang, and dynasties/kingdoms were often colloquially referred to like so (with their respective names)  
> \- The Bureau of Investigation and Intelligence is not “official” like the ministries are, although similar government entities did exist throughout history - as I use it here, it’s like the US’s CIA/FBI/NSA all rolled into one
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/chensdaes)   
>  [character aesthetics](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae/status/1275127624948305921?s=20)


	4. the assassin

Prince Jaebum paces up and down the aisle, eyes fixed on the knife embedded in the wooden table. The rows of soldiers, spies, and assassins stand in neat rows, heads bowed.

The prince slams his hand down on the table and a few people flinch. “I’ll ask again. Who was responsible for this?”

No response. Nakamoto Yuta doesn’t dare lift his head as he hears the prince’s footsteps approach. 

“If none of you will admit it, I will force it out of you. Official Xiong may have let things slide by, but that is not how I work.”

The footsteps pause in the middle of the room. “Last chance.”

Yuta hears rustling, then a whimpered yelp of a young boy as he is shoved out of the neat lines. “Your Highness, Your Highness have mercy on me! I didn’t- it wasn’t- I had no choice.”

“Take him to the prisons.”

“Your Highness! Your Highness, have mercy! Please, Your Highness!” the boy shouts as he is dragged out of the room. 

Yuta’s stomach roils uncomfortably at the thought of the boy’s fate. He’s only been in the capital for a year, and even he has heard about the 4th Prince’s merciless obstinacy. Go against the 4th Prince’s moral code, they say, and he’ll punish you even if you’re just following instructions. Then he’ll track down your superiors and punish them too.

“Who pushed him?” Prince Jaebum continues as if nothing had happened.

Yuta tilts his slightly to see Bao Jian step out of the crowd. Heavens, Yuta hates that man. Now that Official Xiong was no longer in charge of the Bureau, Bao could no longer count on his favoritism and had already begun kissing up to the new head.

“What’s your name?”

“Bao Jian at your service, Your Highness.”

“As of today you’ve been promoted as Captain Bao. I value honest and righteous individuals.”

Bao simpers his thanks before retreating back into the ranks, chest puffed out in pride. Yuta rolls his eyes and sighs inwardly. Looks like the 4th Prince’s nickname of the Black Bull was well given - his obstinacy blinded him.

“This is how things will be done around here now. Does everyone understand?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” they all thunder in response, heads still bowed.

Without another word, the 4th Prince sweeps out of the room.

The crowd only dares to relax once his footsteps are out of earshot. Smirking, Bao steps to the front of the room.

“You heard the 4th Prince. I’m a captain now, and so I will be reassigning roles.” He surveys the crowd, black eyes glinting like a vulture looking for prey.

“Yukhei.”

The tall gangly boy looks up, fear in his big eyes. “Y-yes?” he swallows nervously before tacking on, “Yes Captain Bao?”

“You have been reassigned to the royal task force.”

Yuta clenches his jaw in anger. When Yukhei had arrived with his big puppy eyes and skinny frame, really still a child, Bao had taken one look at him and promptly decided it was his life’s mission to make Yukhei suffer. Luckily, some of the older men had taken Yukhei under their wing, teaching him the foreign tongue and keeping the worst of Bao’s attempts at bay. But assigning Yukhei to the royal task force...that was practically sending Yukhei to his death. Only the most experienced spies and assassins were relegated to the royals - if you were caught, the power-hungry royals would not hesitate to execute you to keep their secrets safe.

One of the older men stepped out. “Ba- Captain Bao, perhaps you may want to reconsider, Yukhei is too young -”

“That’s exactly what we need! New blood.” Bao grinned manically.

Yuta’s blood boiled with anger. “I’ll replace him.”

Bao swung around to look at Yuta. “Nakamoto,” he spit out like it was venom in his mouth. “So eager. Good, I like your spirit. I will let you join Wong Yukhei.”

A poisonous smile split Bao’s face open and Yuta’s heart dropped down to his stomach. Fuck.

***

“S-Sir Yuta,” Yukhei says timidly, later that day.

Yuta sighs. “Just call me Yuta.”

“Yuta ge, for me, you don’t have to.” 

Yuta puts down his knives and looks Yukhei in the eye. “Look kid, it’s already done. The best thing you can do for me now is to keep your head down ok? Leave the dangerous missions to the older ones. You got it?”

Yukhei’s bottom lip trembles and he seems to be about to protest, but just nods defeatedly.

Yuta softens at the sight. “Don’t blame yourself. I chose to do this. Get some rest and prepare your supplies. We’re going to scout out the palace grounds tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae)  
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> [character aesthetics](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae/status/1275127624948305921?s=20) (updated now that yuta's been introduced)


	5. purple rose

“He tried to kill you?” Jaehyun glowers, bracing both palms on the wooden desk.

“Your Highness, please do not be angered,” Doyoung says.

“Doyoung, someone tried to -” Jaehyun cuts himself off, flushing as he realizes he’s forgotten the honorific. 

“Your Highness, I do not believe it was an assassination attempt. It was much too hasty and poorly executed, Commander Lee was right by my side.”

“Then why would someone attack you like that? And who would order such a hit?”

Doyoung nods thoughtfully. “I have a few theories, Your Highness, but cannot confirm them. The style of the attempt reflects the 6th Prince’s personality, as it was, well, brash and poorly planned. However, I cannot see how he would’ve been so antagonized by you so soon after his return. The other possibility is that it was a warning. From whom, I do not know.”

Jaehyun straightens and paces behind his desk, thinking. Doyoung waits patiently. The nature of the attack was very strange indeed, and Taeyong was incredibly worked up over the breach of the security so close to the palace. 

“You said it was from the Bureau?” Jaehyun asks.

“Yes, based on the knife I suspect so. Apart from the military, no one else in the capital has access to such high-end weapons.”

“If you left the knife there, I’m sure Jaebum is already investigating within the Bureau,” Jaehyun muses. “He will likely suspect Jungho once he knows you were the target.”

Pleasantly impressed by Jaehyun’s quick reasoning, Doyoung nods in agreement. 

After thinking for a moment, Jaehyun blurts out, “Why don’t you move into my manor? I have so many extra rooms here, and you wouldn’t need to travel alone so much between your residence and mine.”

Surprised, Doyoung’s eyes widen. This was unexpected. But the prince has a point, he thinks. It would be much more convenient, allowing them to meet more often in the future, and no significant damage would be done.

“If you wish, Your Highness.”

“You don’t have to,” Jaehyun looks away, embarrassed.

Doyoung fights the urge to smile. “No, Your Highness, your reasons are very sound and if you do not think I will be a burden, I would be happy to move in.”

Later in the afternoon, Doyoung stands outside of the Emperor’s Hall, waiting for court to be dismissed. Just outside of the palace walls, wagons full of his belongings are likely traveling to the west side of the city, waiting to be loaded into Prince Jaehyun’s manor. Doyoung doesn’t quite know what to think of it. Logically speaking, it makes perfect sense and it was only a matter of time, but now, in the moment, it feels more momentous than just the next logical move. 

Shaking his head clear of the thoughts, Doyoung takes a deep breath, straightening his posture. He needs to focus right now.

A moment later, a stream of black-robed officials begins to flow out of the Hall, and Doyoung frantically searches the monochromatic crowd. Finding his target, Doyoung politely but firmly navigates through the crowd to follow a pair of officials down the steps, letting them separate down in the square before he approaches. 

“Official Moon,” Doyoung greets with a bow. 

“Advisor Kim,” Taeil responds, his face politely blank. “How may I help you?”

“If you could spare a few minutes, I’d like to take a brief stroll.”

Taeil hesitates for a second before nodding, signaling Doyoung to lead the way. As they walk away from the plaza and the officials, Doyoung begins to speak.

“Are you still in the Ministry of Revenue, Official Moon?” Doyoung asks.

“Yes, Advisor.”

“Ah, I heard the ministry has recently gained a few new members?” 

Taeil eyes Doyoung before nodding. “Yes, as I’m sure you know, the imperial examination results have come in recently, so there are many new officials.”

Having arrived in an abandoned corridor, Doyoung stops walking. “Official Moon, we are all smart people so I won’t beat around the bush. You must know why I have sought you out today.”

Taeil nods.

“I need to know your stance regarding advancement within the bureaucracy.”

Taeil thinks in silence and Doyoung waits patiently.

“With greater power comes greater risk.” Taeil finally replies.

“But those who are able to handle responsibility and distinguish merit should be in positions of power.” Doyoung says quietly.

Taeil takes a long pause before speaking again: “I do not wish harm on others. What the heavens will to happen will eventually happen.”

Their eyes meet, determination and strength hiding in their depths. Doyoung nods. “Shall I walk you back Official Moon?”

“There’s no need, Advisor Kim.”

With a bow, they part, Taeil heading for the gates and Doyoung heading for the training fields.

Shielding his eyes from the blazing afternoon sun, Doyoung watches the children of the court spar from the covered corridors. Although he isn’t the most talented swordsman himself, Doyoung has had enough training to know talent and skill when he sees it. His eyes are immediately drawn to the pair sparring in the middle of the field: blades flashing as the two duelers laugh merrily. A few exchanges later, the broader of the two has pinned the other against the floor, but quickly offers his hand to pull him up. 

“You’ve improved Jeno,” Doyoung praises as he walks out of the shade. “8th Prince.” 

Prince Jaemin returns his bow with a bright smile.

“Doyoung ge! What brings you here?” Jeno asks, eyes curving into crescents. 

“I was passing by and wanted to check up on you. You aren’t giving the Commander any trouble now that you’re in court, are you?”

Jeno laughs, “You’d praise me if I said I was giving Taeyong ge a hard time!”

“Smart boy.” Doyoung grins affectionately, as another boy walks over. This boy is smaller in stature than the twin blossoms, and in contrast to the two smiling faces, his naturally soft eyes hold deep-seated mistrust.

“Doyoung ge, this is Huang Renjun. He’s the son of Marquis Huang.”

Renjun bows, a bit stiffly. “Huang mo greets Advisor Kim.”

Doyoung returns the greeting with a controlled smile. Renjun’s delicate features are reminiscent to Sicheng’s, but where his older brother’s expressions remain sweet and innocent, Renjun’s icy expressions and carefully calculated moves warn others away. There seems to be even more to Huang Renjun than Doyoung initially thought.

“Are you all finished with your practice?”

“Not yet,” Jeno grins happily. “We have a short break before we start archery! That’s Jaemin’s best weapon.” he adds proudly.

Jaemin smiles in response. “We all like archery. Renjun is good at it too, and well, Jeno is Jeno.”

Renjun rewards them with the slightest of smiles before the trainer calls for the children to gather around again. Trading bows yet again, Doyoung watches them fondly as they run off. 

***

Sicheng carefully pours the steeped tea into the ceramic teacups, using his other hand to hold back the wide sleeves of his robe. Setting the teapot down, he slides the cup towards Doyoung before lifting his own to his lips. 

Doyoung takes a sip, shutting his eyes as he visibly relaxes, as if the metal rods precariously holding his limbs up have finally been removed. Sicheng basks in the quietude, watching the flames of the candle flicker brighter as the sky darkens to dusk.

“I met Renjun today,” Doyoung finally speaks.

Sicheng looks up sharply. 

“He is doing better than I thought.”

Sicheng worries the edge of his sleeve. “What- was he in the palace?”

Doyoung nods, eyes softening. “He was training with the other children in the fields. I hear he is a good archer.”

“Commander Lee told you?”

“No. Prince Jaemin did.”

Sicheng inhales sharply, surprised, as Doyoung nods in confirmation.

“And was the Commander General’s youngest son there as well?” Sicheng asks.

Doyoung nods again.

The two men drink in silence as Sicheng’s mind runs frantically in circles. His brother seems to be betting on a dangerous game.

“I did not tell you this for you to worry, Sicheng.” Doyoung interrupts.

Sicheng relaxes marginally. If Doyoung sees something in his brother, it must count for something, something significant, rather. 

“The 5th Prince was at the feast as well.” Doyoung says, looking at Sicheng meaningfully. “He reminds me of you, if life had been kinder.”

Sicheng raises his eyebrows as he pours another cup of tea for Doyoung. 

“I shall venture into the Imperial Gardens then.” It was well-known that Prince Jungwoo favored the palace’s many gardens, and the Emperor had gifted him a decade’s worth of scenery to paint when he expanded the Imperial Gardens in honor of the prince’s 14th birthday last year.

Doyoung nods in approval and stands, smoothing down his sapphire-blue robes. 

“I will get going then.”

Sicheng accompanies Doyoung out of his small cottage-like complex, winding through the gardens until they’ve reached the nearest palace corridor.

“Take care, Sicheng. Recently the grounds are not as safe as they used to be.” Sicheng bows in acknowledgement and Doyoung moves to leave, but hesitates before adding, “If you are in need of me, you may reach me at the 3rd Prince’s manor.”

With that, he bows in farewell and glides down the corridor. Sicheng watches until Doyoung is almost out of sight, catching a glimpse of him greeting a red-robed figure before they disappear around the corner together.

As Sicheng makes his way back to his cottage, he pauses to look up at the night sky before ascending the small flight of wooden stairs. The moon is all but a sliver tonight, the darkness threatening to consume it.

***

Yuta vaults over the palace walls with ease, a contrast to when he first arrived and nearly broke his knee jumping down from the Bureau’s lowest tiered roof. Yukhei scrabbles against the stone before dropping down into a crouch on the ground. Nodding in approval, Yuta waves at him to follow as he ducks behind the foliage. 

Here in the Western complexes are where the concubines reside, surrounded by the palace’s most beautiful gardens - and the best places for an assassin to hide. Yuta found it ironic when he learned that most assassination requests originated here. Drugged on the sweet scent of velvet soft petals and the finest delicacies, the concubines seemed oblivious to the lives lost everyday across the empire’s vast lands, adding to the body count with their petty court schemes.

Edging along the wall behind the willow trees, Yuta scans the layout of the complex, signaling Yukhei to do the same. It would be rather easy to enter through back windows facing the gardens, Yuta thought, but royal assassinations almost always demanded covertness, and the main entrances would likely be heavily guarded. Yuta almost always hates his job, but he despises it now more than ever.

They keep moving forward, sticking close the wall as the willow trees are replaced by cherry blossoms. Yukhei seems delighted at the sight, reaching out to caress them gently before guilty pulling his hand away when Yuta glances back. 

Yuta catalogues each building they pass, noting which windows are lit, which rooms are silent. And then Yuta sees him. 

He’s dressed in simple lilac robes, hands folded demurely in front of his torso as he tilts his face up towards the night sky, the faint moonlight highlighting his high cheekbones. 

Yuta doesn’t realize he’s stopped moving and is staring at the man until Yukhei nudges him from behind, startling him. Yuta’s shoulder brushes the nearby bush and he curses as he ducks down, pulling Yukhei with him. 

The man whips his head towards the rustling, wide eyes grazing over their hiding spot. Yuta’s breath catches in his chest when he sees the man’s face. 

He is undoubtedly the most beautiful human Yuta has ever seen. Delicate features grace his small face, soft pink lips contrasting with dark brows, currently narrowed in confusion. But after scanning the gardens once more, the man only shakes his head and turns to walk into the cottage behind him.

Yuta waits until the man’s shadow has moved away from the window, then pulls Yukhei back the way they came.

When Yuta falls asleep that night, Yukhei snoring gently in the cot beside him, the man’s face is etched behind his eyelids. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Mo” (莫) used here translates roughly to “somebody” or “nobody”, so Renjun refers to himself as Huang mo (somebody named Huang) when speaking to Doyoung as a show of respect (to imply that he's insignificant in status compared to Doyoung, the 3rd Prince’s advisor), hope that kind of makes sense!
> 
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> [character aesthetics](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae/status/1275127624948305921?s=20)


	6. the vast sea

Jaehyun watches from the doorway as Doyoung pulls more books from the shelves, stacks of journals and open scrolls already spread out on every available tabletop. Flipping quickly but gently through the pages, Doyoung’s brow furrows as he sorts the books into piles by a system only he understands. 

Jaehyun wanders into the room, peering at the open scrolls on the nearest table. “Revenue records?”

Doyoung looks up, startled. “Oh, Your Highness! I did not see you enter.”

Jaehyun waves off his hasty bow.

“I apologize for the mess, I have too many books and I haven’t properly organized them yet since I’ve moved in.”

“No worries, Advisor Kim.” Jaehyun’s forehead wrinkles as he continues scanning the open documents. “These are all government records,” he realizes.

Doyoung puts down the book he was holding and walks over. “As you know, I oversaw the Department of State Affairs before I was appointed as your advisor. I was involved in each of the six ministries at some point, so I have access to nearly all government documents.”

That was certainly a surprise. Jaehyun had known that Doyoung’s role in the bureaucracy was ambiguous, as the Emperor seemed to use him for tasks that fit neither here nor there. But to think that he essentially oversaw the entire bureaucracy...there were very few people who could rank above him.

Doyoung holds his gaze meaningfully. 

He still had all the records. He was only Jaehyun’s advisor now.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” Jaehyun asks, and a broad smile blooms over Doyoung’s face.

***

Jaehyun frowns as he reviews the record again. “This can’t be the worst that’s been done.”

“No, it isn’t.” Doyoung replies. “But it’s the best place for us to start. It will not draw much attention and I’ve already spoken to Official Moon. He is an upright man, and will support you if your decisions are wise and justified.”

Seeing the troubled look on Jaehyun’s face, Doyoung softens and says quietly: “I know. Trust me, I would not make this choice if we had another option.”

“Alright.” Jaehyun nods. 

“I believe there are still more records with evidence of embezzlement so I will have those compiled by tonight. If I am not mistaken, the Emperor will call for you in a few days time regarding the Ministry of Defense now that there are no active expeditions.”

Jaehyun nods in confirmation. He had already started looking into the next moves.

“That would be a good time to present the embezzlement case.” Doyoung hesitates before adding, “I can look over your defense plans as well, although I am sure Your Highness is more than well-informed in this area.”

Jaehyun smiles. “I am always open to your suggestions, Advisor Kim.”

Doyoung reciprocates with a small smile and returns to shuffling papers. 

“How are you settling in?” Jaehyun asks after a pause.

“I am faring quite well, Your Highness’s manor is very nice. It is much more convenient.”

“That’s good to hear. I apologize for the lack of staff here, I’ve rarely stayed in the capital for longer than a month for the past few years. You can let me know directly if you need anything.” 

“Oh no, Your Highness, you need not worry. I am used to taking care of myself on my own as well.”

Jaehyun quirks his head at this, interested.

“I am the youngest in my family, and as my parents are growing quite old, the servants spend the majority of their time taking care of them. I try to lessen everyone’s burden when I can.” Doyoung shrugs.

Jaehyun nods in understanding, remembering how Official Kim had retired a few years ago after a long career in the bureaucracy. He had been an official even before Jaehyun’s father had ascended as Emperor.

“Do you miss working in the bureaucracy? You must have been very dedicated to keep all these records on hand.”

“Oh no, Your Highness, it is an honor to serve you. Paperwork can get boring.” Doyoung turns to smile almost mischievously at Jaehyun.

Jaehyun laughs out loud, dimples on full display. “I can definitely understand.”

Seeing Jaehyun gaze wistfully out into the courtyard, Doyoung asks, “Do you miss going on the campaigns, Your Highness?”

“I miss being on the road and always being active, but war is not something you ever miss.”

Doyoung nods in understanding. “I’ve lived my whole life inside the capital, through books really,” he chuckles to conceal his embarrassment.

Jaehyun looks back at Doyoung, who’s intently focusing on placing the scrolls back on the shelves.

“I’m sure you will get the chance to travel someday. I’ve actually always wanted to see the sea.”

“You haven’t?” Doyoung asks in surprise.

“Believe it or not.”

“‘East of Jieshi, I gaze at the vast sea. The waters rippling so gently, the islands standing tall. The trees are dense, the grasses are lush. The autumn breeze rustles the trees as the great waves rise.’” Doyoung recites.

“Cao Cao.”

Doyoung nods. 

“He’s one of my inspirations.”

“I would have suspected so, Your Highness, although your heart appears much kinder.”

“You flatter me.” Jaehyun says as he straightens. “Will I see you at dinner tonight?”

Doyoung nods, smiling.

***

“Prince Jaehyun!”

Jaehyun slows his horse to a walk as he twists to see who called his name.

“Jaebum,” he greets warmly, seeing the black-robed figure atop his horse.

“Brother,” Jaebum’s black stallion walks side-by-side Jaehyun’s chestnut horse, bumping noses. 

The two princes travel in silence until they’ve left the inner walls of the city.

“Have you heard of any attacks within the city recently?” Jaebum asks once they’re out of earshot of the city guards.

Straight to the point as usual. Jaehyun resists the urge to slap his younger brother upside the head, opting for a “No, is something wrong?”

Jaebum’s thick brows knit together, hesitating before saying, “I found a knife from the Bureau of Investigation just outside the outer walls of the Imperial Palace a few days ago. The night of the feast, to be precise.”

Jaehyun feigns a thoughtful hum. “Seems like someone was taking advantage of the festivities. Do you know who ordered it?”

Jaebum wrinkles his nose in disgust. “I questioned the boy who did it, but he wasn’t very helpful.”

Oh dear. Jaebum’s questioning tactics were unpleasant to say the least. “What did he say?”

“Something about an official, or a marquis. May as well throw the dukes and princes in there as well, useless thing,” Jaebum scoffs.

“You would have suspected as much, anyway. Official Bao was removed from his position for a reason.” Jaehyun chastised gently.

“Scum like him are the poison of Da Jiang.” Jaebum spits on the dirt ground.

Jaehyun sighs. “There are rodents within every government, we just have to do our best to repair and prevent the damage.”

The princes ride in thoughtful silence to the river, where Jaebum swings himself off his horse. Picking up one of the many rocks strewn along the shore, he throws it into the river where it sinks with a loud splash. Watching his brother, Jaehyun thinks:  _ time for a visit to the prisons. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- In the 3 Departments, 6 Ministries system, the Department of State Affairs encompassed all 6 ministries.  
> \- Cao Cao is, in my opinion, one of the most intriguing characters in Chinese history (search him up!) To crash course, he was a very successful warlord as well as an exceptional poet, but he’s often criticized for his harsh/inhumane tactics.  
> \- The excerpt Doyoung recites is from Cao Cao’s 观沧海 (Looking at the vast sea). I translated it myself because I wasn’t satisfied with the translations I found online (I wanted a more literal version), so disclaimer + apologies for any inaccuracies!
> 
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	7. firmly rooted

Sicheng drags his feet as he approaches the Imperial Gardens. Heavens, how he hates confrontation. He hadn’t meant to approach the 5th Prince so soon after Doyoung’s suggestion, but Donghyuck hadn’t come by today. He had been expecting a letter from Renjun now that things were building up in the capital, yet it had been a week since he last heard from his brother, meaning Renjun was either in danger or trying too hard to stay out of it.

Sicheng sighs as the wooden planks under his feet give way to gravel. Following the large stepstones, he wanders into the garden, admiring the rare flowers lining the path despite his unwillingness to be there. Spotting a pointed roof up ahead, Sicheng hurries towards the small pavilion. 

As he approaches, he sees a green-robed figure sitting at the stone table, humming quietly as he dips his brush into the colored ink. The 5th Prince seems even younger here among the flowers and greenery, and Sicheng is reminded of how Renjun looked when they first arrived in the capital. The sharp pain in his chest is enough to keep him moving forward, approaching the young prince quietly.

“Prince Jungwoo,” Sicheng bows in greeting.

Startled, Jungwoo stands quickly, the ink on his brush dripping onto the stone floor.

“S-sir Dong Sicheng? I mean, Sir Dong.” He bows clumsily, trying to the wet brush away from his robes and the parchment on the table.

Surprised, Sicheng asks, “You know who I am?”

Jungwoo nods vigorously. “Please, sir take a seat. I have read your poems and I am an admirer of yours.”

“Not at all, not at all. Your art is praised far and wide, prince, much more than my meager words.”

Having finally placed his brush down, Jungwoo shakes his head, eyes widening innocently.

“No! Sir, you may not know, but it was your poems that inspired me to start painting.” Seeing Sicheng’s look of surprise, Jungwoo eagerly continues, “I studied ‘Upon a Blooming Peach Blossom’ when I was twelve because Father admired your poetry so much. Your words immediately painted an image in my mind and I wanted to draw it so badly.”

“This is the highest praise, Your Highness. I am very honored to have inspired such a renowned artist.” Sicheng stands and bows deeply at the waist.

Flushing, Jungwoo turns back to the unfinished painting in front of him. “They know me only because of Father.”

The prince surprises Sicheng again, this time with his honesty and intelligence. 

“That may be true,” Sicheng admits, “but I have a discerning eye for the arts and I believe your works to be exceptional.”

Jungwoo looks up hopefully.

“You see, even here,” Sicheng gestures at the unfinished sketch. “I can see how precise your brushstrokes are, yet they are not overly rigid.”

Eying the strokes of paint, Sicheng says, “You’re drawing the willows, aren’t you?”

“How can you tell?” Jungwoo asks wondrously.

Sicheng smiles, “The proportions of the trunk and the branches are evident even here - you have a natural talent for depicting objects as you see them, whether through your eyes or in your mind.”

Jungwoo beams, and sudden fondness for this young prince strikes Sicheng.

“Please finish this, Your Highness, I’d love to see you work.”

Glancing at Jungwoo’s nervous look, Sicheng clarifies, “I will mostly be observing the scenery. It is not often that I come to the Imperial Gardens.”

When Jungwoo shows him the finished product a few hours later, Sicheng smiles. Holding his long, draping sleeves to the side, Sicheng reaches for the brush. 

“May I?”

Jungwoo hands him the brush, eagerly peeking as Sicheng writes, black ink tracing out neat characters down the left side of the parchment.

When Sicheng places the brush down and steps aside, Jungwoo reads: “‘The willow’s drooping branches sway as the wind rustles through like a whisper. But even as the sharp winter gusts tear through the leaves, the willow’s trunk remains strong, roots digging firmly into the ground.’

“Did you just think of this?” Jungwoo asks, amazed.

Sicheng nods. “Just as I have inspired you in the past, you inspire me now.”

Jungwoo bows deeply. “I am honored beyond words, Sir Dong. I don’t know how to thank you for this, sir, I -”

Sicheng rushes to bring Jungwoo upright. “It is a gift, Your Highness. We people of the arts should always help each other when it is within our power.”

“Please, sir, you can call me Jungwoo.”

Sicheng smiles softly, testing the words out: “Prince Jungwoo. It has been a pleasure to be in your company this afternoon. I must take leave now, but please do not hesitate to visit me, it would be an honor for my modest residence to be graced by your presence.”

“Oh, sir, the pleasure is all mine!” Jungwoo exclaims. “If it isn’t an inconvenience to you, I would love to come by sometime.”

“Of course. We will meet again.” 

The two men exchange bows and Sicheng leaves the pavilion, heading back towards his cottage, pleasantly surprised at how well the meeting had gone.

***

“Ge, Yuta ge,” 

Yuta grumbles and turns over but the person continues whispering, insistent. “Ge, wake up. “

Yuta sits up in his cot, blinking grumpily at the bright sunlight filtering in through the doorway. When his eyes adjust to the brightness, he sees Yukhei’s bleary outline, already dressed in the black robes of the Bureau.

“Ge, get up, quickly. Captain Bao is calling for a meeting.”

Yukhei continues to talk as Yuta stumbles out of the sheets, pulling his robes out from the shelf and ducking behind the folding screen in the back of the room. 

“The others are saying it has something to do with the royal family, apparently the 4th Prince has new orders.”

Yuta grunts in acknowledgement as he hastily ties the thick sash around his waist. 

“I don’t really know, ge, but if that means we’re going to the palace, maybe we’ll see the man in purple robes again!” Yuta gives Yukhei a stink eye as he emerges from behind the screen, shoving his feet into his boots. Admittedly, he is curious, but he doesn’t want to be reminded of his dangerous slip-up. 

First protecting Yukhei, now figuring out who the purple-robed man is. He’s always putting himself in trouble’s way for pretty men.

Turns out Prince Jaebum is the one holding the meeting, and Captain Bao had only been given the oh-so-important responsibility of herding the Bureau’s members into the main hall. 

Once everyone had filed in, standing at attention in neat rows, Prince Jaebum began to speak.

“It has come to my attention that the Bureau has been used for purposes it was not intended to be used for.” Jaebum announces. “Such as surveillance, spying, and worse, assassination among important members of the court. I intend to change that.”

The crowd shifts nervously. For as long as anyone here could remember, the members of the Bureau took orders from anyone who wanted a task to be done. Some of the luckier ones were eventually hired by noble or even royal families and given much nicer living conditions within the families’ respective manors. 

“First, you will all be stripped of your previous ranks.” Yuta smirks at Bao’s look of outrage. 

“You will all go through a preliminary training sequence that I will personally supervise,” Jaebum continues, “If some of you prove to be competent, I will determine where you will rank. If you do not meet my standards, you will continue training. Is that clear?”

A resounding shout of “Yes, Your Highness,” comes from the crowd.

“Secondly, no one is to take any orders that do not come directly from myself or higher-ranking members of the Bureau. There will be no more corruption under my watch. 

“Training will begin this afternoon. I am expecting to see you all at the field an hour past noon.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the Bureau bows as Prince Jaebum nods and sweeps out of the room. 

Seeing as the sun was already high up in the sky, Yuta heads towards the kitchens, hoping to scarf down some food before reporting to the palace’s training grounds. Yukhei follows behind him like a lost puppy, twiddling his fingers nervously when Yuta sits down with a bowl of porridge at one of the wooden tables. 

Ever since Yuta had stood up to Bao, Yukhei seemed to have adopted him as an older brother, following him around everywhere. Strangely, Yuta didn’t mind it. Since being taken from his hometown more than a year ago, he hadn’t allowed himself to get close to anyone.

“Out with it, kid.”

Yukhei takes a seat across from Yuta. “The training, I’m scared.”

“What are you scared about?” Yuta asks, hissing when the porridge nearly burns his tongue.

“What if I don’t pass, ge?”

Yuta stares him dead in the eye. “Are you kidding me? That’s the best-case scenario. You continue training and there’s no need to risk your life doing jobs.”

Yukhei relaxes as he considers this, but then his eyes widen in alarm and he grabs Yuta’s arm. “But ge, then you have to be careful!” Lowering his voice to a whisper, he continues, “You should try to hide your skills then.”

“I was planning to do that anyway. Not that I have many skills to hide.” Patting Lucas on the shoulder, Yuta says, “Don’t worry about me, kid, just keep yourself safe.”

By the fifth lap, Yuta’s shirt has already been soaked through, and he shucks it off. He would probably get sunburned by the end of the afternoon’s training, but the cool wind blowing against his bare back was reprieve enough to justify it. 

An ugly part of him purrs in satisfaction as he sees Bao struggling to keep up. The past few years of pampered treatment have not prepared him well for this day, Yuta thinks as he puts on a burst of speed and laps him for the second time. 

When he finishes his set of laps, Yuta gently jogs to the water tank, dunking his head into the water, nearly moaning at how nice it feels against his sweaty, burning face. Squeezing his knotted hair dry, Yuta walks over to where Yukhei is standing with the other men.

“What were you worried about? See, you finished faster than me.” Yuta says with a friendly nudge.

Yukhei’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes and he gestures towards the rack of weapons. “I’m not good enough with weapons.”

Yuta shrugs. “What I said before still stands.”

They stand quietly under the blazing sun, waiting for the other men to finish and join their ranks. Yuta’s head is beginning to pound from the heat and he blinks hard, trying to hold on to clarity. Thankfully, Prince Jaebum seems to tire of waiting for the stragglers as well.

From the raised platform, he shouts: “We’re moving on. Finish your laps and join us later.

We’re going through the most basic weapons today: swords, knives, spears, and the bow. If you haven’t received any training in these elements, I am still expecting you to participate as you should treat this as a lesson not an exam. Does everyone understand?”

The men shout a yes.

“Good. We’re starting with bare hands. Pair up to spar.”

Yukhei immediately turns to Yuta, who grins. “Square up, big boy.”

Yukhei’s a good fighter, Yuta observes as he dodges the boy’s fists. A bit clumsy but his stature is definitely an advantage. However, Yuta is more experienced and more nimble, eventually pinning Yukhei down without too much effort.

“Switch partners if you’re done!” The prince calls, sharp eyes quickly assessing the pairs of fighters.

Yuta pairs up with an older man, who looks bored out of his mind being here. Anticipating a quick defeat, Yuta steels himself, settling into a defensive stance. To his surprise, the man seems to take his time as Yuta manages to hold out for quite a while. 

Seeing Yuta’s raised eyebrows, the man sighs and explains, “We’re all just trying to survive here. Doing us both a favor.”

Respectable. Yuta plays along, trying his best to stay on his feet but avoiding the other man’s vital regions. Eventually, as the other pairs around them slowly come to a halt, the other man mutters an apology before flipping Yuta onto the ground.

Brushing off his pants as he stands, Yuta salutes the older man before turning to face the platform.

“If I point to you, your skills in this section are insufficient. Move to the west side of the field. The rest of you move to the east side.” Jaebum yells before pointing at a tall, skinny boy. “You, west side.”

As the men file toward their respective sides with the help of Jaebum’s soldiers, Yuta is pleased to find himself and Yukhei still on the east side. Although his reassuring words to Yukhei contained some truth, reality was that it was better to not stick out at all - knowing Jaebum, he’d surely punish those who were too lacking.

The next few trials pass rather uneventfully, although Bao nearly dropping his sword on his foot gives Yuta a good chuckle.

Yukhei had been relegated to the west field during archery, and Yuta had expected to follow, but after a moment’s hesitation, Jaebum seemed to have decided against it. Now, with knives in hand, Yuta squinted at the target a few meters away. On Jaebum’s command, the men threw and Yuta’s knife landed within the inner few rings. Not bad.

After all the rows of men had thrown their knives, they jog towards the targets to pick up the knives for another round. 

Yuta is tossing the knives into a large basket when he hears Yukhei cry, “Yuta ge, watch out!”

Yuta ducks on instinct, just as a knife whistles overhead and impales itself in the target. Yuta straightens as Yukhei comes running over, big eyes filled with worry.

“Ge, are you alright?” At Yuta’s nod, Yukhei looks over Yuta’s back, glaring.

Yuta turns to see Bao holding his hands up. “I- I didn’t mean to, it was an accident, I-”

“What’s going on here?” the prince demands as he walks over.

“You were going to stab Yuta ge!” Yukhei says furiously.

“Your Highness, I swear it was an accident!”

Yuta narrows his eyes in suspicion at Bao as Yukhei steps forward, looking at Jaebum with pleading eyes. “Your Highness, I don’t want to accuse people wrongly, but he was the only one throwing when you clearly said to pick up the knives! I saw him look at Yuta ge with my eye!” Yukhei stumbles slightly over his words, still not completely used to the empire’s language, but he speaks with conviction.

Bao is about to protest but is silenced with a raise of the prince’s hand.

He contemplates for a moment, eyeing the men thoughtfully before speaking. “You’re Bao, aren’t you?”

Bao nods, a sliver of hope shining in his eyes. The prince sneers, “Seems like I promoted you incorrectly. Throwing a boy under the wagon and now backstabbing your colleague. I had my suspicions when the boy didn’t know anything.

“Guards, take him in for questioning.” Bao’s protests are muffled as the soldiers march him off, tying his hands behind his back and tying a wad of cloth over his mouth.

The prince turns to Yukhei. “What’s your name?”

The fire disappears from Yukhei’s eyes, replaced with fear. “Y-Yukhei, Your Highness.”

“From the South?”

Yukhei’s eyes widen and he nods.

Jaebum’s lips twitch into what might be considered a smile. “I’ve been there on a campaign.”

Yuta tightens his jaw. Not the right thing to say when everyone here had been forcibly taken away from their homes.

“You did well pointing out what Bao did.” Jaebum claps Yukhei on the shoulder before turning to Yuta.

“What’s your name?”

“Yuta, Your Highness,” Yuta says as Yukhei bows stiffly.

Jaebum just nods before walking back towards the platform. “Everyone carry on!” he shouts over his shoulder.

Yuta attacks the rest of the exercises with renewed vigor, red-hot fury flowing through his veins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/chensdaes)   
>  [character aesthetics](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae/status/1275127624948305921?s=20)


	8. foxtrap

Jaehyun doesn’t end up visiting the prisons. When he tells Doyoung of Jaebum’s report, suggesting that he visit the prisons to question the boy, he’s immediately discouraged by his advisor.

“Based on his inconclusive answers, I’m willing to bet that the boy really doesn’t know anything. Prince Jaebum has also likely released the boy already, so your presence there would invite more suspicion than this incident is worth, Your Highness.”

“It’s your life, of course it’s worth it.” Jaehyun mumbles.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.” Jaehyun clears his throat. “I just think the outcome could’ve been much worse, we can’t just let it slide.”

Doyoung softens. “Nothing will happen to me, Your Highness. Besides, you know Prince Jaebum’s character. He won’t let this go so easily.”

Jaehyun sighs in defeat.

“Don’t worry about me. Are you ready for your meeting with His Majesty today?”

Jaehyun nods. “The evidence for embezzlement that you put together is very clear. And I am quite sure of what Father will ask of me in regards to the Ministry of Defense.”

“Good. I’ll be at the Lee Manor when you return, you can call for me right away should the need arise.”

Jaehyun nods with a smile, finding Doyoung’s impeccable organization strangely endearing.

“I’ll see you later then.”

As Jaehyun ascends the long steps leading up to the Emperor’s Hall, he can’t help but wish Doyoung was by his side. As much as Doyoung was correct in reasoning that he shouldn’t be present in order to prevent others from assuming the embezzlement case was malicious in intent, Jaehyun had already gotten used to the other man’s subtly grounding presence.

If he was being honest with himself, he was feeling nervous. Although he’d always done his tasks to the best of his ability and tried to please his father, this was the first time he was going out of the way to point out a fault in the bureaucracy. 

Jaehyun knew he was favored by his father, but that didn’t do much to mitigate the unease. Taking a deep breath, he steps over the tall threshold, the symbolism not lost on him at the moment.

“Prince Jaehyun arrives!”

Jaehyun kneels, bowing low to the ground. “Prince Jaehyun greets the Emperor.”

“Rise, my son!” At least the Emperor seemed to be in a good mood today. 

Jaehyun stands. The Emperor is seated on the edge of the throne, war map spread across the table. Other than the usual guards and secretaries, Minister Yu, the only high-ranking female official, is present as well.

“Official Yu and I were just discussing our military strategy in the South. What do you think, Jaehyun?” The Emperor gestures for them to move closer.

Surveying the map, Jaehyun scratches the side of his head, thinking. 

“The biggest threat to the empire has always been the North,” Jaehyun begins, “so now that it has been subdued, it is very unlikely that other threats of rebellion will appear across the empire.”

Official Yu nods in agreement.

“However, the Southern nobility have historically been unrestful, and the same principle may not apply to them.” Jaehyun continues.

“Prince Jaehyun is correct in his analysis,” Official Yu adds. “I have already received reports that many noble families are slowly seeking ways to increase their power, recruiting their own soldiers and not paying their full taxes.”

A satisfied smile from the Emperor. “What do you think we should do then, Jaehyun?”

“I propose an expedition to the South, but not one aggressive in nature or for conquest. We do not want to provoke the nobility, but it would do well to remind them of the empire’s power.”

“Official Yu?”

Official Yu nods slowly, still skeptical. “Prince Jaehyun, how will you ensure that the nobility perceives your message?”

“Peace in the South is often taken for granted, and as such, we rarely visit unless large-scale violence arises. Sending a delegation, especially one hinting of the military, will send a clear message that we are not unaware of what is going on.”

“And who do you think should be in this delegation?” The Emperor asks, amusement dancing across his features.

“I propose that I lead the delegation, Father.” Jaehyun gives him the answer he wants and is expecting. “My military experience is well-known enough that the warning should be clear and I can bring my former troops with me as well. Simultaneously, my status as a prince ensures that the trip will be taken seriously and hold diplomatic value.”

Seeing Official Yu’s nod of approval, the Emperor claps his hands. “It’s settled then. I give you full authority over this expedition to the South.”

Bowing, Jaehyun thanks the Emperor. “I shall present a detailed plan to you and the Ministry of Defense in a few days’ time, Your Majesty.”

“Good, good. You both are dismissed.”

Official Yu bows to the Emperor, then to Jaehyun before she retreats.

Jaehyun lingers behind, rolling up the war map and handing it to Secretary Zhao before he speaks. 

“Father, if I may speak to you about one more issue.”

The Emperor waves his hand jovially. “Go on, son.”

“I have been studying and looking deeper into the bureaucracy recently, since I am spending more time in the capital.” 

Seeing the Emperor nod approvingly, Jaehyun continues, “I may be mistaken but I have checked with Advisor Kim and he confirmed my suspicions.

I believe Minister Liu of the Ministry of Finance has been embezzling funds.”

Jaehyun pulls out the neat records Doyoung had copied and carefully annotated, handing them to Secretary Zhao who presents them to the Emperor. 

Jaehyun watches his father’s face carefully as he scans the records, eyebrows furrowing as he flips through the pages and pages of evidence.

“From my research, this has been going on for more than 6 years. The amounts may seem small, but the total sum is nearly equivalent to a hundred large chests of gold.”

The Emperor slams the papers down on the table and Secretary Zhao hurries in, pleading for him to calm down.

“Call Minister Liu right this instant!” He roars.

***

Doyoung hurries across the courtyard of the Lee Manor, Taeyong following not far behind.

“Why are you walking so fast?” Taeyong huffs, “You never walk this fast.”

Doyoung cranes his neck to glance skeptically at Taeyong. “I’m not walking quickly, you’re just out of shape, Commander Lee.”

Taeyong pouts. “You never leave in the middle of our meetings either.”

“I’m sorry Yong, but we just caught up a few days ago and this is really important.”

When Doyoung stops and turns back to look at Taeyong, who’s fallen strangely silent, he’s met with a shit-eating grin. 

“What?”

“Nothing. The 3rd Prince  _ is _ very important.” Taeyong sweeps by him, smoothly stepping over the threshold and out onto the street.

Confused, Doyoung stands awkwardly in the middle of the courtyard before shaking his head and following him out of the Lee residence. Outside on the street, Jaehyun has dismounted his chestnut stallion and is chatting with Taeyong.  _ I didn’t know they were so friendly _ , Doyoung thinks with a slight frown.

Brushing it aside, Doyoung greets Jaehyun with a small bow. “Your Highness.”

Jaehyun’s face lights up. “Advisor Kim! The meeting was a success -” he cuts himself off, realizing that they’re still in public.

Doyoung smiles. “Let’s go home. We can talk about it there.”

He ignores Taeyong’s amused smirk when they say farewell, focusing on swinging himself up onto his horse and stroking its silky mane to hide his confusion and embarrassment.

“And Father’s ordered an official investigation on the case, although I think it’s more to test Jaebum than is it to verify the evidence we’ve presented, since he’s already removed Official Liu from his position.”

Doyoung nods. As expected of the Emperor, who sees much more than he lets on - this truly is the perfect opportunity to assess Jaebum’s patience on the finer aspects of imperial rule as well.

“Also,” Jaehyun continues, “he asked me who I would recommend for the vacated position. I didn’t give him an answer on the spot, lest he think it’s premeditated, but I told him I would look into the ministry and suggest candidates to him within the week.”

“Very well done, Your Highness.” 

“Um, we also - ,” Jaehyun rubs the back of his neck nervously. “We also discussed the empire’s defense.”

Doyoung nods, a bit confused as to why Jaehyun appears nervous. Did they not accurately guess the meeting’s purpose? Did something go wrong?

“And uh -,” Jaehyun pauses and clears his throat. “I proposed that we send a diplomatic delegation to the South to caution the nobles that are attempting to consolidate power.”

Doyoung nods again. This is quite similar to Jaehyun’s original plan.

“Since my experience with the military is relatively well-known, I volunteered to lead the delegation so that the double-edged message is clear.

And since I’m leading, and since I don’t think this trip will take that long, and you said that you’ve never traveled outside of the capital, I was wondering ifyou’dliketocomewith?”

Doyoung blinks in surprise, taking a moment to process what Jaehyun had rapidly said in one breath. Jaehyun chews on the inside of his cheek as he waits for Doyoung’s response.

“O-of course,” Doyoung says, flustered. “I won’t be much help on a more militarily focused trip such as this one - you’re undoubtedly more experienced, Your Highness, but I will gladly accompany you.”

“You don’t have to,” Jaehyun says quickly, “I’m not forcing you to come - travelling can be tiring and it’ll be hot and I know your interests don’t lie in the military - but it’s a chance to visit the South…” Jaehyun trails off, mumbling. 

“If you don’t like the South we can arrange another trip, I -”

Doyoung reacts too late, cutting Jaehyun off awkwardly. “No, no, Your Highness, I’d really love to come.”

Jaehyun looks at him with a slight pout that he’s likely not even aware of.

Giving him a soft smile, Doyoung nods sincerely, ignoring the strange fluttering rising in his chest. “The South will be beautiful.”

The warm smile that breaks across Jaehyun’s face, deep dimples on full display, works the fluttering up to a frenzy, until Doyoung feels as though a thousand butterflies are flying up and out of his chest.

When the sky has darkened and the study is lit only by candlelight, Doyoung pours over government records, tapping his finger against his knee. Personnel, revenue, defense, justice, works, and rites. One down.

Although Jaehyun was favored in the court’s eyes as well as the Emperor’s, a young Crown Prince (and later, emperor) would likely cause upheaval in the court, so Doyoung had taken it upon himself to uproot the weeds. If he’s honest with himself, it’s probably unnecessary, and years in the bureaucracy have taught him to turn a blind eye at times. But Doyoung’s never felt this...unsettled and so he turns to the familiar to quiet his mind.

It’s ironic really. Since entering court at 16, Doyoung’s always floated around in the bureaucracy - he’d offer his services wherever the Emperor sent him to a department, but he never truly belonged anywhere. Even in his own family, he was the youngest of nearly 20 children, and his parents never could or needed to pay him much attention, especially once he’d been noticed by the emperor. 

Doyoung didn’t blame them. He’d always been self-sufficient and had never felt out of place despite drifting from ministry to ministry for the past four years. So why was it that now, when he’d finally earned a fixed spot by the 3rd Prince’s side, he suddenly felt so restless?

Doyoung turns this over and over again in his head as he walks back to his quarters and lets his hair out of its tight knot, but the more he thinks the more confused he becomes. Eventually, he falls into an uneasy sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy 4 years to 127!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/chensdaes)   
>  [character aesthetics](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae/status/1275127624948305921?s=20)


	9. to hope

Nearly a month has passed since the Bureau’s reorganization, the results of which had left Yuta pleasantly surprised. Jaebum had significantly cut down the size of the Bureau, splitting most members up between different divisions of the military and letting the older ones go. In the end, only about a quarter of the Bureau, including Yuta himself, remained. Prince Jaebum insisted that they would be referred to as officers from now on “to instill discipline and reflect their qualifications” or some bullshit like that.

Yuta had no idea why he had been chosen to stay, but he suspected it had something to do with the knife incident. Yukhei had also been the only one sent to train under the imperial guards, Jaebum citing something along the lines of loyalty being a valuable quality for those so close to the royal family. If you asked Yuta, this was also bullshit, but he was nonetheless relieved that Yukhei would be out of harm’s way for the next few years as he trained. The boy was too young to risk his life everyday.

As for Yuta himself, he had long learned to expect absolutely nothing out of life, preoccupied with safeguarding his own, so this was practically heaven on earth to him. 

With Jaebum’s new purpose for the Bureau, their jobs now consisted mainly of “investigating” various royal and noble family members and reporting information back to whichever other royal or noble family member had requested it. Technically, they were reporting back to the officials of the Bureau that Jaebum had pulled over from the bureaucracy, but these bureaucrats clearly did not share the same stick of righteousness that was stuck up Jaebum’s ass. 

But the best part, Yuta had come to realize, was the access they were now granted to the palace’s training fields. They were allowed (encouraged even, since they were still “sorry excuses” according to Jaebum) to train at any time as long as it didn’t interfere with military drills or the court members’ personal practices.

And thus Yuta had taken full advantage of this new freedom, training at and exploring the outskirts of the palace grounds late in the evening when no one except the guards bothered to look outside. If he slowly wanders in bigger circles each night, approaching the back end of the Imperial Palace, that’s no one’s business but his own. Yuta convinces himself that he’s doing this to familiarize himself with the grounds - after all, it’s only a matter of time before he has to take a job. 

Yuta’s doing a pretty good job of keeping his head down when one night while training, he sees a blur of movement out of the corner of his eye. Whipping his head around, he sees a streak of black disappear down the corridor up above. Knives still in hand, Yuta follows on the training ground, keeping close to the stone wall until he reaches a staircase. Hurrying up the steps, he creeps deeper into the palace in the direction the figure went. 

Soon enough, he sees a figure hurrying down an adjacent corridor, and Yuta quickly ducks behind a wall. As the figure turns down a perpendicular walkway, approaching Yuta’s hiding spot, he realizes it’s a small boy who looks even younger than Yukhei. Yuta lets the boy pass in front of him. He’s carrying a wood container, like the ones from the kitchens, Yuta notices.

More curious than suspicious, Yuta quietly follows the boy as he makes his way through the palace.

Eventually, Yuta finds himself in the gardens. He must be in the Inner Palace by now, where select members of the royal family lived. The boy swiftly navigates his way through the dark, steps crunching on the gravel as he enters a small courtyard. Yuta hides behind a wooden column, crouching low to watch the boy ascend the small wooden steps to knock on the door.

“Sir Dong?” He hears the boy call softly. “It’s me, Donghyuck.”

A moment later, the doors slide open, revealing - 

Yuta swallows a gasp. It’s the man in purple robes. Too focused on following the boy, Donghyuck, unseen, Yuta only now realizes where he is. The rose garden should’ve been a dead giveaway. 

“Donghyuck, it’s so late, why are you here?”

“Can I come in, sir?” Donghyuck asks urgently.

Sir Dong hesitates for a second, before looking around and gesturing for Donghyuck to enter. The door slides closed and Yuta is moving before he realizes it, tucking himself out of view in the small corridor next to the main room. 

Even with his ear pressed up against the wood, he can barely make out the hushed whispers inside. 

“Auntie Xu?” Sir Dong asks, anxiously.

Yuta hears more muttering before the man raises his pitch, clearly panicked. “Where is he? Is he in trouble?”

Donghyuck seems to soothe him as the room quiets down.

A moment later though, a dark-robed man, face covered with a black cloth, jumps down from the roof, sword glinting by his side as he charges towards the door. Yuta dashes out of hiding without thinking, blocking the sword with his dagger. The door bursts open, revealing Sir Dong. 

“Who are you?” he demands.

Both Yuta and the attacker ignore him, too focused on fighting the other. This new attacker is an extremely good fighter, but Yuta’s training has paid off, somewhat evening the playing field. Quickly though, the man dodges Yuta’s swipe and effortlessly launches himself into the air, disappearing behind the roof.

Yuta is about to follow when Sir Dong commands softly but firmly. “Don’t. It’s no use.”

Yuta turns to face him, and is once again shocked by his beauty. “Who are you?” he blurts out.

Sir Dong raises an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t I be asking that of you?”

When Yuta hesitates, Sir Dong speaks. “Why don’t you come on in? I think we need to talk.”

Yuta has no idea what he means, but nods and enters the room. Donghyuck glares at him suspiciously, impressive fire in his eyes, and moves to shield the man with his small body, not letting Yuta walk any further.

Turning around when the footsteps pause, Sir Dong says, “Donghyuck, let him in. He means no harm.”

“How do you know that?” Yuta challenges, thrown off by Sir Dong’s calmness.

Sir Dong shrugs, gesturing for Yuta to sit across from him. Yuta obliges and Donghyuck perches next to Sir Dong, still looking at Yuta distrustfully.

“Let me introduce myself. I am Dong Sicheng. For lack of better description, I am a poet in the Emperor’s care.”

When Yuta makes no move to introduce himself, Sicheng prompts, “I suppose you are part of the Bureau of Investigation and Intelligence?”

Yuta looks at him warily, before giving in. There’s no way he can outsmart this man. “Yes. I am Yuta. Nakamoto Yuta.”

Sicheng nods, seemingly undeterred by his foreign name. “Well, Sir Nakamoto, thank you for moving to help us.”

Eying him thoughtfully, Sicheng says, “Can I be honest with you?”

Yuta makes no reply, but Sicheng continues, already having arrived at a conclusion. “You need not worry about the attacker, he was overall quite harmless. However, I would ask another favor of you, please do report what you saw here to the Bureau.”

Yuta is shocked into silence. What the hell? Now that he thought about it, it had been strange how quickly the attacker had left, when he likely could have defeated Yuta, but how could Sicheng tell? What game is this man, this poet, playing?

“Why?”

Sicheng sighs. “There seems to be a larger scheme at play here, and the attack you just saw was only one small scene. But as you know, even the smallest link is important to create a strong chain, so it is crucial that you report this. You need not worry about the consequences, I can guarantee your safety.”

“And what about yours?” 

Sicheng smiles thinly. “My safety is a given.”

***

Sicheng paces angrily back and forth, gravel crunching beneath his feet. Last night’s events flash through his mind: Donghyuck’s sudden appearance at his door, the rushed letter from his brother, the attack, Yuta. 

He didn’t know what made him trust Yuta on instinct, perhaps it was the way he was likely watching over Donghyuck, or maybe it was how he’d immediately jumped in to defend them from the attacker. But he was sure that Yuta was not part of Renjun’s plan, which fueled his frustration.

“Ge?”

Sicheng whips around at the sound of the voice he hadn’t heard in nearly 2 years. He slowly takes in the green silk robes, the angular face, and the soft eyes. Tears well up in his own before he realizes it.

“Ge,” Renjun chokes out, and runs into Sicheng’s open arms. 

“Renjun,” Sicheng murmurs into his hair. “Renjun.”  _ My baby brother. _

Sicheng doesn’t know how long it takes for their tears to cease. When Renjun stops sniffling, Sicheng draws back, smoothing away his brother’s tears and studying his face. He’s gotten skinnier since Sicheng last saw him, baby fat on his cheeks melting away to highlight his high cheekbones and pointed chin. His eyes remain soft and innocent though. 

“You have some explaining to do, Renjun.” Sicheng admonishes.

Renjun lowers his head, but his eyes gain a determined glint. “I know, ge.”

“Other than last night’s events,” Renjun begins as they walk side-by-side through the garden, “I asked to meet because things are changing on a larger scale, as I’ve been telling you in the letters. Marquis Huang is quite disengaged from the court now, and falling out of favor with the Emperor.”

He hesitates before continuing. “He’s not in a good position right now, if you know what I mean.”

Sicheng nods, worried. “Are you safe though?”

Renjun nods quickly. “Don’t worry, he doesn’t really pay attention to me and I’d prefer it that way. I can visit you now too - it’s been long enough that no one is focusing on the Dong brothers anymore.”

He shoots Sicheng a wry smile, which Sicheng returns lovingly.

“Jaemin and Jeno - the 8th Prince and the Commander General’s youngest son - they’ve got my back too.”

At Sicheng’s raised eyebrow, he adds, “And they won’t stab me in the back. I know, ge, I really do. We’re- we’re very good friends.”

Sicheng is surprised by this development - he’d known Renjun had met the twin blossoms about a year ago, but for his characteristically reserved and suspicious brother to trust these boys? That was interesting indeed.

“You know I trust your judgement A Jun. Now tell me about last night.”

As Renjun explains his plan, he shuffles his feet, kicking the gravel. For all his wits and scheming, Sicheng is reminded of just how young his brother still is - a 13 year old shouldn’t have to play these games.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get a notice to you beforehand ge, I didn’t want to raise suspicions by suddenly being in the palace more than usual.”

Sicheng nods in understanding. “Your plan is riskier than I’d like, Renjun. Did you know that an assassin from the Bureau of Investigation blocked the attack you sent to me yesterday?”

Renjun eyes widen. “He didn’t hurt you right?”

Sicheng shakes his head. “I’m fine A Jun, you don’t ever need to worry about me. But imagine if he questioned the man you sent. You’d be found out.”

“Jeno wouldn’t get caught.” Renjun mumbles.

“You sent Lee Jeno? That was the Commander’s son?” Sicheng nearly yells.

Ducking his head, Renjun only nods meekly. “He wanted to help. And he’s the best fighter I know.”

Sicheng closes his eyes, rubbing his temples in stress. When Sicheng has collected himself, he’s met with Renjun’s apologetic but unwavering stare.

“Ge, that assassin who interfered - you made sure he’s going to report it right?”

“Yes, Renjun,” Sicheng sighs. “You be careful, though, ok? Your safety is always the first priority.”

Renjun nods, but can’t resist from rebutting. “Having power is the only way to be safe in the capital.”

“Yet power always brings its own dangers. I’m not doubting your abilities, A Jun, but don’t let your ambition or anger crowd out your caution.” Sicheng places his hands on Renjun’s shoulders, looking him square in the eyes. “And if anything happens, you can always come to me, okay? Ge will always find a way.” 

Renjun nods dutifully, steely gaze melting a little under his brother’s care. “Okay, ge.”

Satisfied, Sicheng nods and squeezes him into a quick hug before shooing him away. “Go chase after your cherry blossoms now.”

Renjun shoots him a withering glare but does as he says, giving him a quick but tight squeeze around the waist before walking away, towards the training grounds.

Sicheng is preparing his last pot of tea for the night when there’s a knock at his door. Placing the container of tea leaves down, he asks, “Who is it?”

“Yuta.” comes the reply.

When Sicheng slides open the door, he’s momentarily shocked by how close Yuta is. He’s only slightly taller than the other man, he notices in a daze. Stepping back belatedly, he allows Yuta to enter.

“Sir Nakamoto, what can I do for you?”

Yuta lets out a little snort. “You can just call me Yuta.”

“Alright. Yuta, would you like a cup of tea?”

Yuta doesn’t really think it’s a question so much as a courtesy of the court, but nods anyway and Sicheng gestures for him to take a seat, lifting his robes to kneel across from him. Silently, he fills their cups, waiting for Yuta to speak up.

“I reported the attack.”

“Thank you, Yuta. I don’t know how I can repay you for all that you’ve done.” Sicheng inclines his head, handing Yuta the teacup. His hands tingle where Yuta’s fingers brush against his skin.

“I’d like to know what I’m getting myself into.” Yuta says plainly.

“That is a very reasonable request. But I cannot tell you more than what we discussed last night.”

“You mean you won’t tell me more.” Yuta pins him down with a stare. “Sir Dong, I may not be as intelligent as you are, but I know that you know exactly what is going on. And don’t tell me that you’re protecting me, you know exactly what my position is.”

Taken aback by Yuta’s forwardness, Sicheng gapes inelegantly before snapping his jaw shut. “You are correct. There is information I am not willing to tell you.”

“Don’t you think I’ve earned the right to know?” Yuta challenges. “Besides, I’ve already helped you. I’d practically be turning myself in if I betrayed you now.”

Sicheng’s mind rapidly flashes through all the possibilities, weighing the consequences of confiding in this almost-stranger.

“Alright. As you know, last night’s attack was planned. By my brother, more specifically.”

At Yuta’s look of shock, Sicheng nods and holds his hand up, asking for Yuta to let him finish.

“We came to the capital together when I was 16. We did not intend to stay for so long, but the Emperor admired my poetry and wished to...sponsor me. My brother, Renjun, was only 10 at the time so he was sent to live with the Huang family.”

“Wait, so the Emperor took your brother hostage to keep you here?”

Sicheng nods. “We were not allowed to see each other, so we relied on notes to communicate - that’s why Donghyuck was here last night. Recently there has been turmoil among the noble families of the court, and quite a few are attempting to bring the Huang family down, so my brother has been trying to stabilize the situation.”

“By trying to kill you?” Yuta asks incredulously.

Sicheng sighs. “It was to frame a nobleman who has done a very good job of covering his footprints.”

Yuta shakes his head in disbelief and Sicheng lets him process the information. The ways of the Imperial Court are always convoluted and often bewildering.

“Good heavens. Your brother can’t be more than fifteen.”

“He is thirteen.”

“Heavens that’s -” Yuta stands up, angrily walking towards the door.

Alarmed, Sicheng rushes to his feet as well, only for Yuta to turn back around, fire blazing in his eyes.

“He should not have to deal with the court’s bullshit. This is -” Yuta huffs angrily, shaking his head again.

“It is unfair but it is our reality.”

“And you’re just fine with that?” Yuta fires back before Sicheng’s silence douses his flames. 

“I’m sorry,” Yuta says, looking down. “I overstepped. I just- well, I’m practically a slave here but at least I don’t have to deal directly with the court and it’s schemes.”

Sicheng nods, understanding. Most of those who worked for the Bureau - the ones that are forced to get their hands dirty, at least - were prisoners of war, taken during the empire’s many conquests. He and Yuta had both been uprooted from their homes.

“It’s alright. I also wish I could do more to protect him.”

They fall into a tired silence, a blanket of mutual understanding and grief falling over them. Together, they let themselves mourn for the lives they could’ve had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/chensdaes)   
>  [character aesthetics](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae/status/1275127624948305921?s=20)


	10. stay

Jaehyun spends the early summer months waiting, talking, preparing, and waiting some more. He feels restless, not used to such a sedentary lifestyle. 

Since he was seven, he had started following his father and eldest brother on military expeditions, constantly moving from one place to another. When his eldest brother, the late Crown Prince, had died in battle a few years ago, all the princes had been banned from traveling for a full year. Once the Emperor had lifted the ban out of necessity, Jaehyun, Jaebum, and Jungho had nearly flown out of the capital’s gates, anxious to return to military life.

That was the last time Jaehyun had been in the capital for so long. Once the Emperor had appointed Doyoung as his advisor, Jaehyun had guessed the Emperor was planning to make him the new Crown Prince, but he hadn’t truly realized what that entailed. Apparently a lot of sitting around doing nothing.

He watches as Official Liu is found guilty on charges of embezzlement and sentenced to ten years in prison, which Jaehyun talks down to five years with the help of Doyoung, who adds that it would help improve Jaehyun’s image in the general public’s eyes. They both don’t mention how insignificant this case is to the general public or how Official Liu’s crime pales in comparison to what truly goes one behind the closed doors of the court.

He dutifully attends the meetings with his father and Official Yu, where he presents the newest developments in his plan for the Southern delegation and gives his father the answers that he wants to hear before being dismissed with a jovial smile. He’s always tempted to apologize to Official Yu for wasting her time and does after one meeting, where she just flashes him a sympathetic smile. I’ve been doing this for years, she says, you’re the one who has to get used to it. 

The very thought makes him want to run to the nearest mountaintop and scream until his throat is raw.

The only reprieve is Doyoung. Doyoung, who greets him with soft smiles after long meetings, who rewards him with his rare, unbridled laugh after a joke Jaehyun didn’t think was so funny, who always seems to know what Jaehyun is thinking.

Doyoung slowly opens up to Jaehyun as the weather becomes warmer, and Jaehyun thinks he could spend the rest of his life in the capital if it means that he can be with Doyoung like this. Jaehyun listens as Doyoung talks about peculiar cases he encountered working for the Department of State Affairs, or gushes about Dong Sicheng’s latest poem, or laughs when recalling the antics he and Taeyong used to get up to when they were younger.

“You two must be really close,” Jaehyun says one day, as they’re packing up maps and books for the coming expedition to the South. Doyoung is telling him about how Taeyong got him stuck in a dry well when they were younger, refusing to help him out but throwing snacks down in case he got hungry.

“Hm? Oh yes, we’ve known each other since we were born. I often think Taeyong knows me better than I know myself.”

“I see.” Jaehyun shoves down the ugly feeling in his stomach. 

An awkward silence settles over them. Despite knowing better, Jaehyun can’t bring himself to relieve the tension and instead shuffles the scrolls that he’s supposed to be sorting. He’s probably messing up Doyoung’s piles at this point.

Glancing at Jaehyun, Doyoung hurries over, abandoning the books he’s reshelving. “Let me do that, Your Highness.”

Jaehyun steps limply aside, letting Doyoung take over. He only speaks again when Doyoung is already finished and carefully tucking the scrolls into the chests.

Jaehyun clears his throat. “You needn’t wait up on me for dinner tonight, I’ve got an uh - appointment in the palace. With my mother.”

Doyoung looks at him curiously but doesn’t call him on his bluff. “Alright. Have a good time.”

Jaehyun leaves the library with guilt creeping up over his shoulders.

***

When Jaehyun returns to his manor, it’s nearly midnight. After surprising his mother with his impromptu visit, he’d rode out of the city, walking along the river with his horse trotting obediently until the sky had darkened and revealed the stars. 

He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. Actually, that’s a lie. What to do about it -  _ that’s _ what he doesn’t know. Jaehyun’s spent his whole life on the battlefield, strategizing and fighting, but Doyoung isn’t something to be conquered. Doyoung belongs to nothing and no one; even his beautiful physical casing seems to be unable to contain his pure grace, wisdom, and goodness. It seeps out of his posture, his kind eyes, his slender fingers. He’s not of Jaehyun’s empire, not of this Earth.

Heavenly. 

Jaehyun is at a loss.

So when he comes home to see Commander Lee Taeyong helping a limp Doyoung out of a carriage, Jaehyun freezes in shock and fear. 

Spotting him, Taeyong waves him over. “Thank heavens, Your Highness. I wanted him to stay the night at our residence but he refused. My apologies for any inconvenience.”

Jostling Doyoung lightly, Taeyong says, “Doyoung, Prince Jaehyun is here now.”

Doyoung perks up, still lethargic. “Jaehyun?”

The electricity that zaps down Jaehyun’s spine at Doyoung saying his name without any honorifics is enough to snap him out of his frozen stance. He swings himself off of his horse and hurries to help support Doyoung.

“Yes, Advisor Kim, I’m here.”

Doyoung melts a little bit into Jaehyun’s arm. “Good. Didn’t want to worry you.” He hiccups.

“As you can see, he drank a little too much. Said something about worrying about you.” Taeyong looks at him pointedly.

Jaehyun looks down at Doyoung’s closed eyes, a pang of guilt laced with satisfaction in his heart.

“I apologize. Thank you for taking care of him, Commander Lee, I’ve got him from here”

Taeyong waves his apology off. “I’m his best friend. Take good care of him.” he says meaningfully, dark eyes meeting Jaehyun’s.

Jaehyun nods, swallowing. “Have a good night. Thank you again.”

“Have a good night.” Taeyong replies, before climbing into the carriage.

As Taeyong’s carriage click-clacks away, Jaehyun slings Doyoung’s arm more securely around his shoulder and begins making his way into his manor, motioning at the guards to bring his horse to the stables.

Doyoung is nearly asleep at this point, and Jaehyun is practically dragging his feet across the courtyard’s cobblestones. When he reaches the inner courtyards, he gives in, sliding his arm under Doyoung’s knees to carry him the rest of the way. 

He’s never been more thankful for the lack of staff he keeps.

Jaehyun gently lays Doyoung across the bed when they reach Doyoung’s quarters, before straightening up to look fondly down at his advisor. He’s debating whether or not to at least remove Doyoung’s headpiece, when Doyoung shifts and mumbles.

Jaehyun freezes, mind rapidly racing to explain the situation. But when Doyoung cracks open his bleary eyes, he only reaches out for Jaehyun, mumbling again. 

“Pardon?” Jaehyun whispers, moving closer.

Doyoung grabs his hand. “Stay.”

“I can’t,” Jaehyun swallows. “I’ll be here tomorrow, I promise.”

A content smile spreads across Doyoung’s face as he closes his eyes again, fingers loosening so Jaehyun’s hand slides out of his grasp.

“Okay. You promise.”

***

Doyoung wakes up with a pounding headache. He groans softly before noticing the bright sunlight already streaming in through the windows. Realizing how late it is, he scrambles out of bed and hurriedly straightens his robes. The last thing he remembers from the previous night was drinking with Taeyong, then somehow being helped back into his quarters. 

Just as he’s pinning his headpiece back on, the doors swing open with a quiet creak. Doyoung swivels around to see Jaehyun walking in, carrying a tray with a bowl of soup. He rushes to his feet, bowing awkwardly. His shock is mirrored on Jaehyun’s face.

“Your Highness, I-” Doyoung’s mind scrambles to understand the situation. “Why are you here?” he blurts out, before slapping his hand over his mouth. Heavens, he’s a mess.

Jaehyun blushes as he places the tray down on a side table. “Commander Lee brought you back last night, and I happened to be returning from the uh- palace too.”

Dread settles heavily in Doyoung’s stomach.

“I thought you might not be feeling well, so I asked the kitchens to make soup for you.”

Doyoung wants to crawl into a hole and never come out again. “Your Highness, I’m so sorry. I deeply apologize for my actions last night and the inconvenience it has caused you.” He bows at his waist.

Jaehyun rushes to help him up, fingertips on his elbows. “No need, Advisor Kim, you did not cause any inconvenience.”

Doyoung’s face is burning when he straightens, and he meekly takes the soup that Jaehyun hands him. After a few sips, Jaehyun clears his throat and asks: “I will leave you for now, then. Um, I will be at the palace training grounds for the rest of the day, to uh, prepare the troops for the journey.”

They exchange bows, Doyoung insisting on seeing him to the door. When Jaehyun turns the corner towards the stables, Doyoung slinks back into his bedroom, plopping down on the bed with his head in his hands. He should never have let Taeyong talk him into drinking so much. Now he can only pray to the heavens that he didn’t do anything damning in his drunken state.

After a few hours of trying to focus on their route to the South, Doyoung gives up and finds himself in front of the Lee Manor. When a servant comes out to greet him, however, she tells him that Taeyong is currently training the Imperial Guard in the palace. Thanking her, Doyoung reluctantly swings himself back onto his horse.

As he rides towards the palace, he steels his nerves, reasoning that the palace’s training grounds were vast and it was very unlikely that he’d bump into the prince while looking for Taeyong. Without knowing what exactly happened last night, he can’t focus on preparing for their trip to the South. 

Based on their awkward conversation this morning, Doyoung could tell that Jaehyun was hiding something from him, which meant Doyoung definitely did something terribly embarrassing last night. The more he’d thought about it, the more questions he had. Why had Jaehyun personally delivered soup to him when he could’ve asked the kitchen staff? Did Taeyong say anything to Jaehyun when he brought Doyoung back last night? 

Fueled by his rising worry and curiosity, Doyoung marches determinedly towards the training grounds, scanning the fields for Taeyong’s armor. 

Spotting his friend shouting orders from a raised platform, Doyoung walks over and waits patiently under a wide umbrella for Taeyong to finish. Based on the age of the men, Taeyong seems to be training the new guards today. 

In giving Taeyong command over the Imperial Guards, the Emperor had bestowed an immense honor upon him, as these men directly protected members of the royal family and the court. People had talked when the Emperor had chosen to appoint Taeyong instead of his father, wondering why Taeyong, in all his youth, was essentially cooped up in the capital while the aging Commander General was still required to lead troops all over the empire. In Doyoung’s opinion, however, the Emperor’s move had been a smart one, allowing him to keep an eye on the young commander to see how he handled more delicate matters before entrusting him with control of the entire army.

Doyoung looks up as Taeyong descends the steps of the platform to stand next to Doyoung, having given the young guards a water break.

“Doyoung.”

Doyoung nods in acknowledgement, before getting straight to the point. “What happened last night? Don’t leave details out.” he warns, upon seeing how Taeyong is immediately prepared to respond.

“Fine. You were upset because you thought Prince Jaehyun was upset, and then to soothe your little bleeding heart we had a few bottles of wine, except then you wouldn’t stop drinking. And then in your uncontrollable drunken state, you insisted on returning to the 3rd Prince’s manor despite my perfectly reasonable explanation that you’d probably bother him more that way.” Ignoring Doyoung’s incredulous look, Taeyong continues, “And then Prince Jaehyun happened to return right when we arrived, and he insisted on helping his caring, pitiful advisor in.”

“Please tell me you didn’t let him handle me while I was drunk.”

“I did,” Taeyong sings gleefully. “No need to thank me.”

Doyoung moves to slap Taeyong’s shoulder before realizing he would only hurt his hand hitting the metal armor. “Lee Taeyong!”

“He was very nice and willing to help, and I didn’t want to intrude.” Taeyong protests, trying to hide his smirk.

Doyoung pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. Taeyong lets him panic quietly for a moment before patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’re not that bad drunk. I’ve got to continue training now, see you later.”

Doyoung doesn’t respond, mind whirring as he processes this new information. When he opens his eyes again to the bright sunlight, a headache unrelated to his hangover is setting on, so he distractedly walks towards the main palace, hoping to find solace in the covered corridors to properly continue his mental breakdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait! i'm getting busier bc of classes  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/chensdaes)  
> [character aesthetics](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae/status/1275127624948305921?s=20)


	11. rivers

“Jaemin’s birthday is in a few days.” Prince Jungwoo says as he walks through the palace’s gardens, side-by-side with Sicheng.

“That must be exciting. Are you looking forward to the feast?” Sicheng asks.

Jungwoo wrinkles his nose. “I suppose. I don’t particularly enjoy large gatherings but I like Jaemin.”

Sicheng nods in understanding. When he’d first arrived in the capital, the Emperor had requested his presence at nearly every royal banquet despite his polite protests. Now that he’d faded into the crowd of talents the Emperor sponsored in the capital, though, Sicheng avoided them like the plague.

“Do you know who else will be attending?” Sicheng asks casually.

“The entire royal family for sure, and probably most of the court.” Jungwoo replies. “Jaemin is close to a lot of the children.”

Seeing how Renjun is allegedly  _ friends _ with Prince Jaemin, he would likely be there too. Sicheng often wonders how Renjun would act in court: would he be Sicheng’s starry-eyed little brother? Or would he don the arrogant mask befitting the Huang heir? Sicheng doesn’t think he wants to know.

They continue walking in a companionable silence, occasionally commenting on a particularly lovely flower or bird call. Sicheng is still not entirely sure why Doyoung told him to approach Jungwoo, but he’s glad he did. Their personalities are indeed similar - both soft-spoken and sentimental - and they’ve spent many a summer afternoon wandering the palace gardens in quiet yet comforting companionship. Perhaps that was Doyoung’s only goal: to give Sicheng a friend in the palace. For all his icy, untouchable exterior, Doyoung’s heart couldn’t help but radiate warmth.

When they make their way back to Sicheng’s cottage, Sicheng begins preparing a pot of tea as Jungwoo wanders into the study, eager to browse through Sicheng’s newest compositions. Having noticed the young prince’s appreciation for the arts, Sicheng had begun leaving large expanses of blank parchment on poems that might be to Prince Jungwoo’s taste so that he could illustrate them.

As Sicheng is pouring the piping hot tea into his best porcelain cups, Donghyuck comes rushing in with a basket. 

“Lotus cakes from Auntie Xu, sir.” Donghyuck says meaningfully.

Sicheng frowns slightly. He wasn’t expecting a note from Renjun so soon after his last reply.

Jungwoo pokes his head through the doorway. “Lotus cakes?”

Donghyuck snaps his head up, startled, before recognizing Jungwoo and bowing deeply. “5th Prince.”

A conflicted look passes briefly over Jungwoo’s face when he urges Donghyuck to straighten, but it’s quickly replaced with a soft smile.

“I apologize for not noticing your presence, Prince Jungwoo.” Donghyuck says nervously.

“Oh no, don’t apologize!” Jungwoo says, flustered. “It’s Sicheng ge’s place after all.”

Sicheng smiles inwardly at Jungwoo’s shy kindness, handing them each a piece of lotus cake.

“Prince Jungwoo, this is Lee Donghyuck. He mostly works in the kitchens but helps me out here.” Donghyuck bows deeply again at the introduction.

“It’s nice to meet you, Donghyuck. H-how old are you?”

“Thirteen, Your Highness.”

As they munch on their lotus cakes, Jungwoo shooting surreptitiously guilty glances at Donghyuck, Sicheng pulls out the note from the bottom-most box and walks towards his study of sorts.

Unfolding the paper, he scans the message quickly, brows furrowed.  _ When the blossom blooms, some will try to make the river run dry. Nature will correct itself. _

Sicheng only sighs in resignation. He hates the thought of his brother placing himself in danger, even if it would be within the security of the palace grounds, but at least Renjun had thought to warn him. Sometimes Sicheng doesn’t think he deserve to be called ge by Renjun. What kind of older brother hides idly in the gardens as his baby brother risks his life at the claws of the court?

Burning the message, Sicheng grabs a scroll on the way out of his study and unrolls it on the low table in front of Jungwoo

“I think you’ll like this one, Prince Jungwoo.” 

Jungwoo perks up eagerly, leaning over to read it. 

“I do!” he smiles brightly. “Can I take it with me?” 

“Of course.” Sicheng says. “Donghyuck, you’re more than welcome to stay and enjoy the cakes and tea with us, but there’s no rush to bring the box back to Auntie Xu today.”

Donghyuck nods, finishing the cake before excusing himself. “I will come back for the box tomorrow then, sir. We’re quite busy preparing for the banquet so I’ll take leave now.”

He bows again at Sicheng and Jungwoo before leaving the cottage.

Jungwoo’s face is troubled again when Sicheng turns to him.

“Is something wrong, Prince?”

“He’s so young.” Jungwoo murmurs.

“He is.” Sicheng says. “And he’s not the youngest that I’ve seen.”

Jungwoo turns to look at him in shock. “I didn’t know the palace had servants that were so young.”

Sicheng nods sadly. He hates to play a part in Jungwoo’s loss of innocence, but then he thinks of his brother, who never had a choice but to become an adult at ten years old.

***

In the evening, Yuta knocks on Sicheng’s door out of courtesy before letting himself in. 

Since they had met a few months ago, Yuta had found himself wandering the palace gardens in the evenings against his better judgement, hoping to bump into Sicheng. And bump into Sicheng he did, the poet quickly seeing through his excuse with a polite yet amused smile, inviting Yuta into his residence. 

“Would you like something to drink? I would offer you tea, but you didn’t seem to drink it last time.”

Yuta had been taken aback by Sicheng’s perceptiveness. He never drank or ate anything that was specifically offered to him - not since he’d been taken - but Sicheng had been the first to notice this in these long years. Blushing slightly (Yuta never blushed either), he’d apologized for his lack of manners and yes, he would like some tea. Sicheng didn’t seem like the type to poison him, and Yuta had already stumbled over his barriers for this man too many times to count.

Sicheng had been a surprisingly good conversationalist too, and Yuta had let his guard down again, stories from his past year in the Bureau quickly spilling from his lips, from the increasingly prevalent conversations of distaste for the old emperor that he’d overheard to Yukhei’s tumultuous arrival a few months ago.

Once Sicheng had found out that Yuta was essentially illiterate in the common language, he’d volunteered to teach Yuta, giving him the perfect excuse to make a habit out of coming to Sicheng’s residence every night.

Tonight, when Sicheng emerges from his bedroom dressed in his usual lilac robes, Yuta’s breath catches in his throat. Sicheng is no less alluring than he was a few months ago, when he was only a purple-robed stranger standing in the palace gardens.

Yuta smiles, joining Sicheng at the low table.

As Sicheng pours them tea, Yuta begins speaking. “I think I saw your brother at the training grounds earlier today.”

“You did?” Sicheng looks up, eyes sparkling with curiosity and poorly concealed hope.

“You said he was friends with Prince Jaemin and the Commander’s son right?”

Sicheng nods.

“Well I’m assuming he was the third of that little trio. He’s good with knives.”

“That’s good. I’m glad he knows how to defend himself.” Sicheng glances down at his own hands. They’re an artist’s hands, lean and long and unblemished. Yuta’s own are riddled with too many scars and calluses to count.

“I can teach you.” Yuta offers, taking them both by surprise. “To defend yourself, I mean.” He shrugs nonchalantly, as if his heart isn’t beating a mile a minute. “It’s fair, since you’re teaching me how to read and write.”

“I don’t know, Yuta.” Sicheng bites the inside of his cheek. It’s an endearing habit.

“Come on, I don’t bite. And like you said, it’d be good to learn to defend yourself.”  _ And I’d get to spend more time with you _ .

“Maybe next time,” Sicheng concedes and Yuta smiles broadly, knowing he’s won. “For today let’s focus on you. Do you remember the characters we learned last time?”

Yuta nods, picking up the brush Sicheng had laid out for him. Carefully, he writes: 黄河，长江，大海，西湖。

“Huang he, Chang Jiang, da hai, xi hu.” He reads.

“Good. What about these?” Sicheng slides him a parchment with characters written in his elegant hand. 

“The Yellow River...flows...towards...the sea.” Yuta reads slowly, looking up proudly when he finishes.

Sicheng smiles widely. “That’s a line from a famous poem by Wang Zhihuan. Would you like to learn the whole thing?”

Yuta nods, seeing the excitement in Sicheng’s eyes. As Sicheng begins to recite the poem, writing the characters as he does, Yuta basks in Sicheng’s soothing voice, content to just watch as the flickering candlelight casts his delicate features in light and shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem mentioned (“On the Stork Tower”) is a staple in Chinese education, basically every child memorizes it lol
> 
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>  [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/chensdaes)   
>  [character aesthetics](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae/status/1275127624948305921?s=20)


	12. the drought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please note the rating + warnings change! i don't think it's super applicable to this chapter, but it is definitely relevant for the future, and please always let me know if there's anything else i should tag!
> 
> for this chapter specifically: tw // mentions of blood, needles, offscreen fainting
> 
> stay safe and enjoy! it's a longer one :)

Seated at his raised desk in his hall, Jaehyun aimlessly rustles through the endless pile of maps and military documents for their expedition to the South. He’d reviewed each of the scrolls countless times already - has practically memorized the number of wagons, horses, and provisions they’re bringing - but he’s desperate for something to fill up his time. 

Since the incident a few nights ago, Jaehyun had avoided spending time at the manor as much as possible, running off to the training fields at the crack of dawn and frequenting his mother’s palace amid the Western complexes. He’d even gone so far as to brave the busy streets of the capitol, wandering through any and all shops to personally purchase another gift for Prince Jaemin’s birthday, even though he’d already had a proper sword made for his younger brother. Jaehyun tells himself that his excursions were conducive to staying in touch with the people of his empire.

Jaehyun sighs and leans back in his seat, only for one of his men to come running through the door.

“Your Highness,” he pants. “Advisor Kim has fainted.”

Jaehyun’s heart plummets down to his stomach and he immediately rushes towards Doyoung’s quarters, already berating himself.

When he arrives, the doctor is already there, carefully laying a cool cloth over his forehead.

“Doctor?” Jaehyun asks breathlessly.

When the old man raises a finger to his lips, Jaehyun flushes and he watches silently, tension prickling under his skin as the doctor pokes Doyoung’s arm with his thin needles.

Removing the last needle, the doctor hums, and Jaehyun has to clench his fists in order to resist firing questions at the old man. 

“He will be alright, Your Highness. He fainted due to exhaustion and the heat did not help, but he should be fine after resting.”

Jaehyun bows low. “Thank you, Doctor.” Eyes fixed on Doyoung’s unconscious form, he manages to wait until the doctor and the servants have left the room until he takes the seat next to the bed. His hand hovers above the other man’s brow before realizing what he was about to do.

Jaehyun retracts his hand, swallowing. As he gazes at Doyoung’s serene face, guilt and anger settles over him like a heavy blanket. He’d known that Doyoung would do this, especially with the trip only a few days away: much like Jaehyun, Doyoung was always the type to overwork himself when something was on his mind. But Jaehyun had allowed this to happen.

After ordering a servant to stay by Doyoung and alert Jaehyun immediately when he woke, Jaehyun had finally headed over to the study after days of avoiding it. As he flips through Doyoung’s neat piles of scrolls and papers, scanning the notes and plans written in Doyoung’s elegant hand, Jaehyun becomes more and more impressed yet confused.. 

Doyoung had finished all the plans for their trip South and had likely been finished for weeks now based on how dry the ink is, but the local maps are still spread out on the side tables, and so are family trees. Jaehyun runs his fingers over the old bamboo scrolls, tracing the names: Choi, Xu, Wen, Kwon, Shen. All well-known families of the South that Doyoung was most certainly already familiar with. Did he think they would cause trouble?

Jaehyun wanders further into Doyoung’s study until he comes to a stop in front of a new table, stacked with records of the bureaucracy. Jaehyun’s brows furrow as he flips through the topmost book. It’s a record of all the officials under the Ministry of Personnel.

An inkling of suspicion dawns upon Jaehyun and he walks back to the family trees, book still in hand. After looking down to confirm the family names, he carefully traces his finger down the neat columns of the book, scanning the list of officials. 

In his search for answers, Jaehyun doesn’t notice that hours have gone by until the voice of a servant pulls him out of the documents. 

“Your Highness? Advisor Kim is awake.”

Jaehyun looks up, startled, but quickly puts down the record when he hears Doyoung’s name and sweeps out of the study into the faint glow of the evening sky.

This time when he enters his advisor’s quarters, Doyoung is sitting up in bed with his eyes closed, patiently waiting for the doctor to finish his examination. The old doctor plucks the needle out with a grunt of satisfaction, sliding it back into his pouch. 

“Doctor?” Jaehyun asks worriedly, unable to resist. 

Doyoung’s eyes spring open, shocked to see Jaehyun lingering by the doorframe. When he moves to stand, the doctor shoves him down with a stern look.“Stay put.” 

Turning to Jaehyun, he bows. “Your Highness, Advisor Kim’s condition has improved, but he still needs to recover. I advise bedrest and medicine, and I will come again tomorrow morning.”

Jaehyun bows deeply. “Thank you doctor, for your trouble.”

The doctor nods briskly before packing up his supplies and stepping out of the room. Taking the now vacated seat by Doyoung’s bed, Jaehyun instinctively reaches to hold Doyoung’s hand in his own.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling much better. I apologize for worrying you again, Your Highness.” Doyoung says quietly, gaze downcast.

Jaehyun shakes his vehemently. “Advisor Kim,” he says, “Don’t apologize, your safety and health is always my priority.”

At Doyoung’s silence, Jaehyun realizes that he’s still holding the other man’s hand, and moves to pull his hand away, flushing.

“Sorry-”

Doyoung grips Jaehyun’s hand, keeping him in place before raising his head to meet Jaehyun’s eyes with a small smile.

“Don’t apologize, either, Your Highness.”

Jaehyun returns Doyoung’s smile, eyes slowly curving into crescents. 

Doyoung clears his throat, looking away momentarily. “I owe you an explanation. About that night, Commander Lee told me what happened a few days ago. I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier, but you were busy at the training grounds.”

Jaehyun swallows. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“Didn’t we say we would stop apologizing to each other?” Doyoung smiles sadly. “It’s not your fault, Your Highness. Can I be honest with you?”

Jaehyun nods.

“I was worried about you,” Doyoung worries at his blanket. “I thought you might’ve been uncomfortable that day in the library, but I wasn’t sure why, and I didn’t want to push. And somehow,” he huffs in embarrassment, “Taeyong talked me into drinking more than I should and I made the situation even worse.”

Jaehyun’s heart sinks. “Oh, Advisor Kim, I never meant to make you worry. I was- you must know, I was so childish to be jealous of you and Commander Lee’s friendship.”

Doyoung looks up, surprised. “You were jealous? Why would you be jealous?”

Jaehyun looks away to hide his flush before responding. “It was childish. But Commander Lee is so familiar with you.”

“Oh, Your Highness, I didn’t mean to be distant.”

When Jaehyun looks up from under his lashes, Doyoung’s expression is so earnest, big eyes brimming with emotion. His hand is warm in Jaehyun’s. 

Jaehyun takes the leap. “Will you please call me Jaehyun then?”

“Is that-” Doyoung starts, before reconsidering. “If that’s what you prefer, Your Highness, of course. Then, it’s only fair if you call me Doyoung too.”

“Doyoung ge,” Jaehyun says, corners of his lips twitching upwards.

Doyoung smiles at that. It would do them well.

***

Seated behind Jaehyun in the Imperial Hall a few days later, Doyoung forces himself to relax. This is only Prince Jaemin’s birthday, he reminds himself, no politics involved for the young prince’s celebration tonight.

He sips his soup before setting his bowl down, nodding reassuringly when Jaehyun turns slightly to glance at him. It had taken forever to convince Jaehyun to let him attend tonight, the prince insisting that he stay and rest for the trip South in a few days’ time. But Doyoung had been adamant about attending, not willing to miss the opportunity to see Huang Renjun’s performance in the royal court.

He doubted anything would happen tonight, but he wanted to be able to reassure Sicheng when he would inevitably ask in a few days when Doyoung planned to visit him. 

At the moment, Renjun was quietly eating his meal, smiling and answering softly whenever Jaemin or Jeno paused in their conversation to glance at him. Doyoung could see Taeyong observing them with interest from only a few seats away, wearing a satisfied smile when he returned to his food.

The evening passes with the usual celebrations: Prince Jaemin is presented a variety of luxurious gifts by his brothers, an excessive number of toasts are announced in his honor, and various performers filter in through the wings to dance, sing, or act.

Midway through the martial arts performance, Prince Jaemin is pulled up from his seat to participate, and he goes along good-naturedly, laughing as he twirls before calling for his friends to join him. As expected, Jeno immediately jumps up, but not before whispering into Renjun’s ear with a smile. After a moment of consideration, Renjun rises as well, weaving into the crowd of performers.

Doyoung is surprised at the boy’s eagerness - while he was a good fighter, Doyoung had thought his goal of keeping a relatively low profile would prevent him from joining a performance in front of the royal court.

Jaehyun seems surprised as well, turning around to whisper to Doyoung. His breath tickles Doyoung’s ear when he asks: “Who is that? The boy that was sitting close to Jaemin and Jeno?”

“That’s Huang Renjun, the only son of Marquis Huang.” Doyoung replies.

Jaehyun frowns a little. “I haven’t heard that name in a while.”

Doyoung nods. “He’s been falling out of favor with His Majesty, too stubborn to change his overly traditional ways.”

Jaehyun hums thoughtfully. As he opens his mouth to ask another question, though, a scream comes from the crowd of performers. 

Doyoung looks up sharply only to see Huang Renjun twist and fall to the ground, a blade protruding from his shoulder, red already soaking the silk. When the attacking performer pulls the sword out, hurtling towards the exit, Jeno is already vaulting over the tables to follow as Jaemin rushes to catch Renjun.

The Hall breaks into chaos, guards rushing in to protect the emperor and the officials scattering towards the walls. Like the other armed princes, Jaehyun has drawn his own sword and is standing closely in front of Doyoung, arms out to shield him. 

“We have to get out of here.” Doyoung says, as he sees the guards ushering the guests towards the exits. The original attacker is nowhere to be seen but other performers seem to be in on the scheme as well, fighting against the guards in order to escape.

Jaehyun nods briskly, before pressing a hand to Doyoung’s back, urging him to move while shielding his body from behind. 

Rapidly surveying the situation, Doyoung ducks into a nook leading to a narrow hallway, gently pulling Jaehyun in as well. They hurry away from the chaos of the main hall, Jaehyun looking over his shoulder cautiously with his sword still drawn.

When the two men are far enough from the Hall that the shouts fade, Jaehyun finally relaxes enough to take a seat on the carpeted stairs, motioning for Doyoung to join him.

Since the fainting incident, Jaehyun and Doyoung had finally stopped tip-toeing around each other and they’d grown close quickly, like two magnets rushing towards one another, meant to find each other all along. Even when they had practically been strangers, the two men had naturally been attuned to each other, able to just know what the other meant. Of course, this was expected of those who had been raised to decipher the court’s deceptive language and clever schemes, but Doyoung knew there was something different about his and Jaehyun’s dynamic. 

The prince didn’t just understand Doyoung’s unexplained schemes; he also seemed to recognize when and why Doyoung hesitated or held back. And likewise, the language of Jaehyun’s minute expressions under his handsome, pleasant mask was as familiar to Doyoung as his mother tongue.

_ Meant to find each other all along.  _ The thought that had sprung up in Doyoung’s mind one sleepless night becomes more apt with each passing day.

Suddenly, Doyoung springs up from where he’d sunk down next to Jaehyun, the adrenaline from their flight wearing off. 

“Renjun,” he gasps at Jaehyun’s questioning expression. “I have to make sure Sicheng is alright.”

Realization dawns on Jaehyun’s face and he’s up within seconds, pulling Doyoung further along the narrow hall. “There’s an exit here.”

***

Sicheng sits at the low table with his eyes closed, an image of calm, while Yuta paces in front of the door. Cracking an eye open at Yuta’s frustrated sigh, Sicheng leans over to pour him a cup of tea. 

“It’s no use, Yuta, come have some tea.”

“What if there’s an attack on you too?” Yuta says, but obliges Sicheng as he walks across the room.

“Renjun would’ve told me if there was.”

Yuta falls into a restless silence before standing back up. “Just in case. It makes me feel better.”

Sicheng smiles slightly as he watches Yuta’ lean figure resume his pacing. Despite the other’s fierce appearance and flippant mannerisms, Sicheng had come to know the burning heart Yuta hid underneath. From the kind smiles he flashed Donghyuck to how he always talked about the young guard Yukhei’s progress with loving teases and a proud smile, Sicheng knew that his formidable exterior was only the armor he’d been forced to adopt. Yuta cared a lot, and Sicheng felt warm inside whenever Yuta’s care was extended to him.

Just as Yuta was passing in front of the doors again, a loud knock comes from outside. Yuta springs back, hands instinctively curled around his knives. Sicheng rises startled, but puts his finger to his lips, signaling for Yuta to be quiet. 

“Sicheng?” comes a worried voice. Recognizing the familiar voice, Sicheng hurriedly motions for Yuta to hide in the other room but is met with a stubborn, worried glare. Sicheng gestures again, with more force, but Yuta only concedes to stand behind the door.

As Sicheng is silently arguing with Yuta though, the door suddenly bursts open to reveal two figures, who are now staring at Sicheng pulling at Yuta’s unbudging arm. Before Sicheng can react, the taller of the two darts into the room and has his sword pressed against Yuta’s throat within seconds. Doyoung hurries to close the doors of the room before pulling Sicheng away from Yuta. 

“Sicheng, are you alright?”

Belatedly recovering from his shock, Sicheng shakes his head. “No, no, Advisor Kim, I’m quite alright. I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” he says breathlessly as he watches the 3rd Prince’s eyes bore into Yuta’s menacingly.

At Doyoung’s understandably confused face, Sicheng breathes in deeply before continuing with a bow. “Prince Jaehyun, I am extremely grateful for your concern, but if you could please let him go. He’s my- my guest, I can assure you he has no intention to harm any of us.”

Jaehyun glances over Yuta but lets go. “Sir Dong, he is from the Bureau of Investigation.”

Sicheng nods. “Yes, but he’s a friend of mine.”

Yuta rubs his neck ruefully before bowing. “Your Highness,” he turns to Doyoung, “Advisor Kim.”

Jaehyun is quick to help him straighten. “I apologize for my mistake. How shall I refer to you?”

Yuta seems frozen with shock for a moment before responding. “Yuta, Your Highness. You are a prince, you should not apologize.”

Jaehyun frowns slightly. “I am a prince,” he agrees, “but I should still apologize when I make a mistake.”

Yuta’s eyebrows raise but he bows again. 

“Yuta is a friend of mine, he happened to come to my aid during the assassination attempt a few months ago.” Sicheng quickly explains.

“Yes, the Yang case.” Doyoung nods and Sicheng has an inkling of suspicion that Doyoung knows of Renjun’s involvement. “I was afraid something similar happened tonight.”

“If I could ask,” Sicheng ventures, “were you at the prince’s birthday banquet tonight?”

Jaehyun nods. “Yes, an attack broke out - a premeditated assasination attempt, I suspect - so Doyoung came to ensure you were safe.” Doyoung, not Advisor Kim, Sicheng notices. “I’m afraid young Master Huang was the victim. Your brother.”

Sicheng doesn’t have to fake the chill that runs through him despite Renjun’s warning. “Is he safe?”

Doyoung hesitates. “We had to leave quickly, but I believe he is safe and secure. Prince Jaemin and the imperial guards were still with him.”

Sicheng nods, relaxing slightly. Collecting himself and straightening up, he smiles wryly, “Would you all like some tea?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yell at me:  
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	13. golden

Yuta is roughly shaken awake and he mumbles in protest, screwing his eyes shut.

“Nakamoto. The Prince wants you outside.”

At this, Yuta springs awake, eyes widening as he takes in this information and the bright sunlight flooding in through the slats of the wooden walls. “Me?”

The assassin Yuta had sparred with during the evaluations nods. “I’d hurry, I’m not sure what he’s planning but he doesn’t seem too pleased.”

“I will. Thank you for telling me, Zhou.” 

Zhou nods briskly before leaving. Yuta pulls on his garments and shoves his feet into his boots, cursing under his breath at the bothersome laces before stumbling out of his room.

Since Jaebum had reorganized the Bureau, Yuta’s living conditions had improved drastically. With fewer members remaining in the Bureau, each of the remaining men not only had their own rooms but the prince had also ordered repairs to the Bureau’s original complex and now it resembled a militaristic manor rather than an abandoned property.

When Yuta arrives in the main courtyard of the Bureau’s complex, Prince Jaebum is already waiting for him with only a few of his most trusted men by his side as usual. 

Yuta bows. “Your Highness.”

“Rise, Nakamoto.”

Yuta straightens, standing stiffly with his hands clasped behind his back. 

“Why were you on palace grounds last night?”

Yuta’s heart drops down to his stomach. As direct as usual, the prince hadn’t even given him a chance to suspect why he’d been called here.

Yuta swallows before answering. “I was at the training grounds but heard commotion from the palace proper, Your Highness.”

“Your hearing must be spectacular.”

Chin still tilted up and expression still blank, Yuta adds, “I had been concerned after hearing faint shouts from the palace since I witnessed an assassination attempt there a few months earlier.”

Jaebum crosses his arms when Zhou nods in affirmation. 

“Very well. My informant also said he saw you leave at the same time as the 3rd Prince.”

“Yes, Your Highness, he had escaped from the main hall to the same area I was in.”

“Did you exchange words with him?”

“Only a few, Your Highness, when he asked why I was there.”

Jaebum nods thoughtfully. “Dismissed.”

Yuta bows and retreats, letting out a breath of air when he was out of earshot. The prince hadn’t seemed angered over Yuta’s explanation or presence in the palace, but Yuta would need to keep his head down for the next few weeks. Which also meant he wouldn’t be able to meet Sicheng, but Yuta brushed it off despite his disappointment. It was typical for Yuta to miss a few nights due to whatever task he’d been assigned by the Bureau, so Sicheng wouldn’t worry.

As Yuta trudges towards the kitchens though, a small part of him hopes that Sicheng would worry if he were ever gone for longer.

Plopping down on a wooden bench with a bowl of porridge, Yuta grumbles at the time. He’s never up this early, as his assignments are always carried out at night and any mandatory trainings are usually in the afternoon. Now that he has to lay low, he’s not quite sure what to do with himself either. He usually wanders wherever his feet take him but he suspects whoever Jaebum had appointed to follow him wouldn’t approve of his usual habits.

In the past few months, whenever he wasn’t training, carrying out assignments, or visiting Sicheng, Yuta would wander around the capital. He’s already explored practically every inch of the slums, often bringing a spare mantou or two from the Bureau’s well-supplied kitchens to share with the too-skinny children. Despite his infamous “morals”, Prince Jaebum would probably find Yuta guilty of treason for sharing imperial goods or whatever. If Yuta has learned anything over the years, it’s that the elites’ moral ideals are locked high up and away, preventing them from realizing the everyday struggles of their oh-so-treasured civilians.

Although Prince Jaehyun and Advisor Kim hadn’t seemed so removed despite their status. Prince Jaehyun had been surprisingly down-to-earth, easily conversing with Yuta when Advisor Kim and Sicheng had started spouting off poetry. Perhaps it was because the prince had grown up traveling with his late elder brothers when they were still campaigning, but Yuta had seen potential for Prince Jaehyun to understand the commoners. He won’t ever understand people like you though, the ever-present bitterness inside Yuta snarls, and Yuta brushes away his thoughts. It’s hard to have hope.

A few days later, Yuta is pulled out of bed again by Zhou and once again stumbles into the courtyard to meet the prince.

This time Prince Jaebum is dressed in full armor, and when Yuta rises from his bow, one of the prince’s men steps forward to read from a scroll.

“The 4th Prince of Jiang, Prince Jaebum, requests that Officer Nakamoto Yuta of the Bureau of Investigation and Intelligence investigate the 3rd Prince of Jiang, Prince Jaehyun’s expedition to the South. Officer Nakamoto is to follow the delegation as far as Cheng City to ensure Prince Jaehyun’s safe travels.”

Yuta accepts the scroll placed into his hands. The order is strangely simple, he’s not really investigating anything, just following Prince Jaehyun’s delegation. Perhaps it’s a test from Prince Jaebum to see if he would run away. Yuta scoffs at that: he may not be exceptionally intelligent but he has learned self-preservation.

Prince Jaebum eyes his response but seems satisfied with Yuta’s poker face.

“The delegation leaves this afternoon,” the prince simply says before sweeping away.

***

Doyoung strokes the mane of Jaehyun’s chestnut mare as he waits for the servants to finish loading the other horses with their bundles of supplies. Jaehyun, dressed in full armor, is standing at the edge of the fields, conversing with his general. 

Doyoung remembers when Jaehyun was appointed General of this very division, back when Doyoung had just entered court. Jaehyun had returned victoriously from the first military campaign he’d gone on after the death of the former Crown Prince and the Emperor had been delighted when the old Commander Lee had told him how Jaehyun’s quick-thinking had won them the battle that proved to be a turning point in the campaign. At fifteen years old, Jaehyun had become a military general and his title wasn’t just honorary either - he’d gone on to lead his troop in countless campaigns until he’d returned to the capital last year and his long-time comrade Seo Youngho had taken over in his stead.

Everyone knew that his now-permanent return to the capital preceded the inevitability of the Emperor naming him Crown Prince - Jaehyun was his eldest living son now and was adored across the empire by officials and civilians alike. Doyoung’s job as his advisor had been made easy by the prince’s talent and natural charm.

“Excited?”

Doyoung looks away from Jaehyun to nod at Taeyong, who had come to Jaehyun’s manor to escort them out of the city. 

“Strange that I’m the one leaving this time,” Doyoung replies, referring to the many times that he’d watched Taeyong leave the city, accompanying his father on campaigns across the empire.

Taeyong chuckles. “The first time is the most exciting. I don’t mind staying in the capital now, actually, I’ve had enough of battle over the years.”

“You sound like you’re sixty instead of twenty-one,” Doyoung chastises, “Your father has more energy than you!”

Taeyong mock pouts at that, before smiling as Jaehyun walks over. “Your Highness.”

“Commander Lee,” Jaehyun salutes him casually, clasped hands extended in front of his chest. “Doyoung ge, are you ready? General Seo said the troops are ready to depart.”

Doyoung nods, Jaehyun’s expression softening at his muted smile. As Doyoung walks towards the carriage Jaehyun had brought for him (“You’re still not fully recovered, and if you insist on coming, I insist on you riding in a carriage so you don’t exhaust yourself again.”), Taeyong pats Doyoung on the back with a smirk.

“Enjoy your trip,  _ Doyoung ge, _ ” Taeyong snickers as he dodges Doyoung’s fist, jogging away to join his guards.

The carriage rattles over the cobblestones as they pass through the city walls towards the crowd of soldiers and officials waiting for them just outside the capital. Peering out of the small windows, Doyoung isn’t surprised when he sees the Emperor seated upon a high platform, watching as they approach. 

Surrounding the platform are the royal officials lined up in neat rows. Doyoung catches Moon Taeil’s eyes, the minister standing at the front of the Ministry of Revenue and giving Doyoung the slightest nod of acknowledgement as the carriage rolls to a stop. 

Flanking the Emperor are Prince Jaebum and Jungho, the latter’s upturned snarl a contrast to the young Prince Jaemin, who’s grinning excitedly as Jaehyun dismounts and walks towards the platform. Doyoung quickly steps out of his carriage as well, hurrying to bow beside Jaehyun.

The sendoff is more of a formality and confirmation of Jaehyun’s status as the favored prince than anything, so once the Emperor has toasted to Jaehyun’s success and Taeyong has quietly murmured “stay safe” to Doyoung, gently squeezing his shoulder, Jaehyun leads their delegation out of the city.

As the clip-clopping hooves of their horses carries them towards the South, Doyoung is left alone to think. Before departing for the trip, he had poured over all the information about the South that he could get his hands on, anxious about the trip as well as his tension with Jaehyun. Although he’d pushed himself a little too far, he had stumbled across an interesting connection - Minister Jia of the Ministry of Public Works was a distant nephew of Lord Shen, one of the most powerful and wealthy lords in the South.

That alone had been enough to warrant Doyoung’s hyper-focused attention at the time, and upon further digging, he’d found that Minister Jia was complicit in a very familiar case. If all went according to plan, the empire would soon have a new Public Works Minister.

***

Yuta grumbles inwardly as he crawls through the foliage, leading his horse by the reins. Looking through the trees, he doubts that the train of soldiers would be able to hear his footsteps given how the gravel crunches loudly underneath their own feet and their horses’ hooves, but Yuta still does his best to sneak through the forest soundlessly.

He’d been following the delegation since they’d departed from the capital that morning and now the sun was already setting. Yuta can’t help but agree when his stomach rumbles in complaint: given how unlikely it is that anything would happen in the short distance between the capital and Cheng City, he’s sure that Prince Jaebum gave him this assignment as some petty reprimand for Yuta entering the main palace grounds that night.

As the trees flanking the dirt path soon give way to small wooden stalls, Yuta hastily ties his horse to a tree before pulling his straw hat over his head and angling it cover the better part of his face as he leaves the shelter of the trees to join the civilians walking towards the stone walls of Cheng City, who quickly part and bow upon seeing the royal brigade led by a poised Prince Jaehyun. Weaving through the crowd, Yuta is surprised to hear so many delighted exclamations:

“It’s Prince Jaehyun!”

“Your Highness, welcome!”

“Take some chestnuts, Your Highness!” An old storekeeper shoves a small basket of roasted chestnuts towards the troops and to Yuta’s surprise, the prince’s general takes it, bowing kindly at the grandma and quickly pressing a few coins into her hands before catching up with the prince, not giving the grandma time to protest.

Yuta continues to navigate through the crowd of civilians still excitedly chattering over the prince’s popular appearance. He’s forced to fall behind and wait while the troops pass through the arch in the thick city walls, but quickly catches up once they’re within the city.

As those ahead of the prince naturally drift to the sides to give the delegation a clear path in the narrow streets, a little girl suddenly dashes out into the emptying road, chasing a stray cat. Yuta’s entire body tenses as she runs straight towards the approaching delegation and panicked screams come from the crowd as Prince Jaehyun’s horse rears up.

But Jaehyun jerks the reins to the side, narrowly avoiding crushing the little girl, who is now frozen, staring up at the soldiers and horses with fearful eyes. Just as her mother calls out the little girl’s name, Prince Jaehyun slides off his horse, stroking its muzzle soothingly before turning towards the child. By now, the mother has rushed down the street, hugging her daughter tightly before bowing to the prince, forehead pressed against the cobblestones.

“Please forgive us, Your Highness, A Xin was overly excited and I did not watch her properly. I am willing to accept punishment-”

Yuta watches from underneath a building’s eaves as Prince Jaehyun shakes his head firmly, metal armor groaning as he kneels to help the mother to her feet.

“Please do not apologize, madam.” Still crouched down, Jaehyun turns to A Xin, whose big eyes are welling up with tears. “A Xin?”

The little girl nods, twisting her fingers in her tunic. 

“I am sorry for scaring you, A Xin, this gege shouldn’t have been riding so carelessly on the street. But next time be careful and listen to your mama okay? So our Xin Xin won’t get hurt by irresponsible geges like me.” Jaehyun smiles warmly - genuinely, Yuta realizes - and reaches into his mare’s saddlebags to hand the little girl a piece of wrapped candy. “This is part of gege’s apology too.”

A Xin’s mother begins to protest but Jaehyun shakes his head kindly and presses the candy into the girl’s palm, gently folding her stubby fingers over it. He bows deeply. “Gege is very sorry and hopes A Xin will accept his apology.”

With a little prompting from her mother, A Xin nods and bows a little clumsily. Jaehyun’s dimples appear as he smiles and bows again, before taking the reins of his mare to lead her through the streets, the rest of his soldiers having also dismounted and following suit. 

Like the rest of the crowd, Yuta reacts belatedly, shocked by the prince’s genuine kindness. Even after briefly conversing with Jaehyun in Sicheng’s quarters the night of the attack, he still had reservations about the favored prince, his walls of natural suspicion towards authority as sturdy as ever. But for the prince to exceed the expectations of typical courtesy? Yuta was inclined to believe the whispers that the golden robes of the emperor were designed for the 3rd Prince’s golden heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry y'all, it's been a while! as always, kudos and comments are much appreciated <3
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/chensdaes)   
>  [character aesthetics](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae/status/1275127624948305921?s=20)


	14. blooming red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please note that the warnings and ratings are very applicable from here on out!  
> warning for violence and blood in this chapter. to avoid the graphic scenes, stop at “Doyoung move!” and pick up after the long break

Yuta watches from a distance as the soldiers squeeze into Cheng City’s largest inn, the innkeeper tripping over his feet to accommodate the royal delegation. Prince Jaehyun remains unfailingly polite as he urges the diplomats to settle in before personally leading his soldiers around the back to tie up their horses. Advisor Kim whispers something in the prince’s ear before he leaves though, and the prince nods in understanding, dimples slightly indenting his cheeks.

The young ladies standing nearby swoon at the prince’s smile and Yuta chuckles under his breath. The whole empire had eyes for Jaehyun it seems, but he doubted that the prince even noticed, too endearingly focused on those closest to him.

As the crowd in front of the inn begins to disperse, Yuta stations himself in the tavern right across the street, seated next to a small window in the corner. Scooping out a few of the coins Zhou had given him for this assignment, Yuta orders the only two dishes he recognizes when the waiter rattles off the menu. He had heard Sicheng mention them to Donghyuck before.

When the worker scurries away to the kitchens, Yuta’s mind, as it always does, drifts to Sicheng. He’s likely preparing his late evening tea now, slender hands gracefully soaking the tea leaves. In an hour, Yuta would be knocking on Sicheng’s door before letting himself in. 

Dipping his finger in the lukewarm tea, Yuta traces out watery characters on the dark wood.  _ 树上的红花。 _ He smiles. Sicheng would be happy to see how he could string complete phrases together from the characters they’d learned.

Yuta is still smiling when his food arrives, steam rising from the ceramic plates. And he’s smiling when he looks out of the window, watching the children prance around in the streets, ignoring the shrill calls of “Dinner!” ringing out from the second-story windows. 

After polishing off his food, Yuta languidly strolls down the streets, relishing in the cool evening breeze that blows through the streets. He’s sated and content, doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt so full.

“Combs! Come buy the finest wooden combs in the empire!”

“Cheng wine, the strongest under the heavens!”

Emboldened by his bliss, Yuta allows himself the luxury of wandering closer to the various stalls, sparing a glance at the colorful lanterns and chirping birds the stall-owners are setting out.

“Tea made from the rarest herbs of the South! Fragrant and healing!”

Yuta’s feet lead him closer. 

“Sir, this is the best tea you can find in this part of the Empire.” The young girl manning the stall explains earnestly when Yuta pauses. “We just imported stock from Hangzhou, I’ll give a special discount as the first customer.”

Yuta finds himself inexplicably lulled in as the girl continues to explain the tea’s various health benefits and intricate drying process. The crisp moss-brown leaves he’s supposed to be noticing the differences between all look the same to him, but the girl is undeterred by his lack of response.

“...of course, that’s expected coming from “heaven on Earth”. You know, tradition says Xi Hu has magical properties.”

“I’ll take it.”

The girl blinks, surprised before recovering quickly. “You have fine taste, sir! How many ounces?”

“Uh,” Yuta points to the sample spread out in a porcelain dish. “That much is good.”

The girl chatters on as she packages the tea leaves, but Yuta tunes her out. Xi Hu, she had said. He traces the characters on his hand. Sicheng had taught him that word, said the clear lake was rumored to be the most beautiful sight on Earth.

Yuta’s own heart aches as he recalls the yearning that had filled Sicheng’s voice. He doesn’t understand nature’s beauty the same way Sicheng does, but if Xi Hu in Sicheng’s eyes is half as beautiful as Sicheng in Yuta’s eyes, it truly would be worthy of its fame.

Yuta thanks the girl as he gingerly takes the small paper package from her hand, tucking it safely within his robes. As he turns around to leave, he bumps into another man, automatically lowering his head in apology, shielding his face. 

When he straightens, Yuta catches a glimpse of the other man’s eyes, which widen before he disappears into the crowd.  _ Strange _ , Yuta thinks, fixing his wide-brimmed hat.

It’s not until he’s passed three more stalls that Yuta realizes why the eyes had looked so familiar. 

Cursing loudly, Yuta abruptly turns on his heel and sprints back down the street towards the prince’s inn.

***

Doyoung sits behind the small desk in his room, the Shen family tree once again spread out on the tabletop. Frowning at the noisy shouts outside, he stands to shut the windows that had been flung wide open earlier to let the cool evening breeze into the stuffy room.

As he leans over the window sill to reach the wooden knobs, Doyoung cranes his neck towards the main street, scanning the masses that had gathered for the night market.

After arriving at the inn and settling into their rooms, Doyoung and Jaehyun had opted to eat together upstairs instead of braving the boisterous crowd that had taken over the inn’s restaurant, eager to catch another glimpse of the prince. Throughout dinner, Jaehyun had chattered excitedly about his childhood memories of Cheng City, telling Doyoung about how the late Crown Prince had always stopped by this hole-in-the-wall noodle shop before returning to the capital. The auntie that ran the shop had watched Jaehyun accompany his eldest brother on campaigns and eventually lead his own.

“You should go visit.” Doyoung suggests.

Jaehyun nods eagerly, mouth stuffed full of rice. “I was planning to tonight, but there’s a lot more people than I thought outside. Also, you’re tired.”

Doyoung blinks. “What does me being tired have to do with it?”

“I wanted to bring you along.” Jaehyun says, head cocked to the side innocently.

_ Oh. _ Warmth floods through Doyoung. “Oh Jaehyun, don’t let me hold you back from visiting, especially since we have to leave early tomorrow morning. I can come with you when we return.”

Jaehyun had nodded hesitantly, but at Doyoung’s encouraging smile, he’d bounded out of the inn after dinner, dressed in commoners’ clothes to conceal his identity.

The sky was a dark blue now, the streets lit by the yellow lights seeping out of lanterns, but as Doyoung scans the crowd, he doesn’t see Jaehyun’s familiar broad frame.

Doyoung sighs. As he draws the windows closed, though, he notices a sudden, frantic movement out of the corner of his eye. Inching the window open once again, Doyoung peers along the side of the building to the inn’s back courtyard, where two men dressed in black are circling the royal horses and wagons.

He watches them warily, and sees one of the figures disappear behind a wagon. The other, more slender figure quickly follows and when neither of the men emerge, Doyoung frowns suspiciously. Throwing on his outer robes, he quickly walks out of his room and down the hall. 

When General Seo doesn’t answer his crisp knocks, Doyoung steels himself before hurrying down the stairs and out towards the courtyard alone.

When Doyoung cautiously steps out into the open air, the courtyard appears empty save for the emptied wagons. He strains his ears to listen for any unordinary noises under the raucous shouts and chattering of the streets, and as he slowly inches towards the wagon he saw the men disappear behind, he can hear the faintest sounds of scuffling and grunting. 

Doyoung’s hand closes around the small knife tucked into his belt. Although he’d quickly given up swords and bows for brushes and parchment, he retained the skills and tools to defend himself from his childhood training. 

Peering out from behind a nearby wagon, Doyoung’s eyes widen when he finds the two men in black tussling on the ground. And - was that...Yuta?

“What are you doing here?” Yuta growls at the other man when they break apart, postures ripe with tension.

“None of your business, Nakamoto.” The other man pants, near hysterical.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Bao. The 4th Prince didn’t send you here, did he?”

The other man - Bao - snorts. “Of course not. Prince Jaebum only knows how to obey others’ orders like a dog.”

A chill runs down Doyoung’s spine when he sees Yuta’s eyes narrow dangerously, lips curling up in a tight smile.

“You’re signing your death warrant, Bao.”

Bao’s hands shake as he moves to draw his sword, tension coiling in his body. Before he can launch himself at Yuta, Doyoung steps out from his hiding spot.

“Gentlemen.”

Both men whip their heads towards him.

“Advisor Kim,” Yuta bows quickly.

“What’s going on here?”

Bao’s eyes widen at Doyoung’s title, realizing who he is. “Advisor Kim, allow me to introduce myself. I am Officer Bao from the Bureau of Investigation and Intelligence, Prince Jaebum sent me to ensure your safe travels. Thank the heavens for his foresight, because this piece of vermin was attempting to sabotage your trip!” He points an accusing finger at Yuta.

“Is that so?” Doyoung’s face remains carefully blank, years of practice in court kicking in. “What was he doing?”

Eager to indict Yuta, Bao stumbles over his words. “Esteemed advisor, he was attempting to break the spokes of the wheel and steal valuables from the wagons!”

“That must be what  _ you _ were trying to do,” Yuta snarls. “Do you want to repeat to Advisor Kim what you said about Prince Jaebum to me?”

“Shut up,” Bao hisses at Yuta. “You have no right to speak here, you traitor.”

Yuta laughs. “Oh, so I’m the traitor now? Bao, you don’t seriously believe that everyone has just forgotten about your wrongdoings? Should I remind you about how you sold out that young boy, or how you basically condemned Yukhei to his death, or how you tried to kill me in front of everyone’s eyes?”

“Shut up,” Bao hisses, eyes flickering to Doyoung wildly. “Advisor Kim, don’t believe him, he’s spouting nonsense to save himself.”

“You’re really something, Bao,” Yuta shakes his head. “You may have fooled Official Xiong but not everyone is as stupid as you.”

“Shut up!” Bao screeches. His whole body is trembling now, jaw clenched and eyes dilated.

“Gentlemen-” Doyoung holds his hands out, placating, as if he were calming a wild dog. “Why don’t we-”

“Doyoung?” Cold dread creeps through Doyoung at the familiar voice.  _ No, not now, please.  _ “Doyoung, is that you?”

Doyoung turns around slowly. “Yes. Why don’t you go inside first?”

But it’s already too late. When he turns the corner, Jaehyun’s eyes widen at the two assassins, recognizing their all-black attire.

“Doyoung move!” Jaehyun shouts, darting forward to shove him aside. 

Doyoung processes everything in slow motion, mind short-circuiting with confusion and panic at the thought of Jaehyun in danger. He turns around slowly, too slowly, like time has turned to liquid, and sees Bao’s naked sword aimed towards Yuta, who whirls to the side, escaping the sharp blade but not without a long cut to his arm. Bao launches himself messily towards Yuta again, teeth bared and eyes wild with panic. 

Doyoung’s mind is still whirling, desperately trying to make sense of the situation, to find a solution. He barely registers Jaehyun’s firm hands around his shoulders, attempting to push him behind his body. 

And then Doyoung sees Bao impale himself on Yuta’s knife. Red stains the metal blade and crawls through the black fabric over his stomach.

Yuta’s gaze snaps up to Doyoung, eyes wide. “I- I didn’t mean to, he just-”

Doyoung’s expression is a mirror of Yuta’s, speechless with shock. Jaehyun moves quickly though, pushing the straw hat off his head and dropping to his knees in front of Bao’s limp form. He examines the wound, before applying pressure on both sides of the knife. 

“What happened?” He demands, looking at Yuta.

When Yuta doesn’t respond, he asks again, softer. “Yuta, tell me what happened.”

At the sound of his name, Yuta shakes himself out of his stupor, instinctively backing away. “He attacked me, and I couldn’t- I had no choice.”

He turns to look at Doyoung. “Advisor Kim, what he said wasn’t true. Before you came-”

“I know. I-I saw. Heard.” Turning to Jaehyun, Doyoung sucks in a deep breath to calm himself. He tries to keep his tone even, collected as he affirms: “Jaehyun, Yuta is innocent, this man was trying to sabotage our trip.”

“Just as I predicted,” Jaehyun muttered. “Doyoung, could you please go get General Seo?”

“It’s alright, Your Highness.” 

All three men whip around at the new voice. An older man dressed in the black ensemble of the Bureau bows deeply. 

“I apologize for the sudden and belated interruption, Your Highness. I am Officer Zhou from the Bureau of Investigation and Intelligence. Prince Jaebum sent me to supervise Officer Nakamoto’s task. I can take care of Officer Bao here.”

At Jaehyun’s nod, he walks over to Bao’s unconscious form, taking out a roll of cloth from his robes. The white cloth is quickly soaked through with red as he wraps it tightly around the stab wound.

“I will take him and Officer Nakamoto back to the Bureau.” Zhou says. “I apologize on their behalf for inconveniencing Your Highness and Advisor Kim and I will ensure that Prince Jaebum is informed of what occurred here.”

Jaehyun nods gratefully. “Thank you, Officer Zhou. You may be aware of this, but Prince Jaebum will likely not be surprised to hear about this. Please tell him to remember what we discussed - I was not harmed and he should not escalate this more than necessary.”

Officer Zhou nods gravely. 

“Do you have horses? Let me lend you a wagon to transport Officer Bao. Doyoung-”

Doyoung nods quickly before escaping into the inn, grateful to be given a task and with it, some semblance of control.

When he returns with soldiers in tow, Yuta is nowhere in sight and Jaehyun has rolled up the stained sleeves of his plain robes. His hands no longer stained red. Doyoung lets out a puff of air he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Yuta is getting their horses from outside of the city.” Jaehyun explains quietly, walking to stand next to Doyoung. The hand he places on Doyoung’s back is grounding. “You weren’t hurt, were you?”

Doyoung shakes his head, looking into Jaehyun’s concerned eyes. “No, I only saw what happened. Bao was clearly unstable, so I wanted to take him to somewhere more secure, and then you came.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Doyoung asks.

“I shouldn’t have shown up so suddenly, put you in danger.”

Doyoung takes Jaehyun’s hand. It’s warm and steady. “Hey. Look at me.”

Jaehyun looks up, eyes full of sorrow and guilt. Doyoung smiles at him softly as something inside of him begins to settle.

“When are we going to stop apologizing to each other?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	15. weeds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI i'm so sorry for not updating in forever but it's still not 2021 where i live so at least i can say i posted this before the new year :) i also moved around the chapters so i'm sorry if you got notifs or are confused about that. unfortunately some of your comments might have been deleted as well which really breaks my heart TT without further ado though, here's the chapter! please note the warnings!!
> 
> tw// blood, whipping. the semi-graphic scenes start at “Days later,” and end at “Yuta is thankful”

Yuta doesn’t feel anything. His limbs move on their own accord when Zhou tells him to mount his horse and head back to the capital, barely registering the sting of the hastily cleaned cut on his upper arm. He kneels on the hard stone floors of the Bureau when Zhou tells Prince Jaebum what happened at the inn, doesn’t resist when Jaebum’s men haul him to his feet and march him towards the prisons. Doesn’t flinch when the door to his cell clangs shut.

Alone in the cold cell, Yuta curls up into himself. He stays like that for a long time, until he faintly feels something prodding into his chest. Reaching into his robes, he takes about the small package wrapped in paper.  _ Sicheng’s tea. _

Yuta had gotten too comfortable the past few months. The little freedom he’d been given had nourished the small, ever-present seed of hope in his heart until it had grown too large, filling out his rib cage again and pushing out the sharp blade of desperation that Yuta had carefully honed over the past year. Desperation had been the only way to survive, to protect the guilt and pain from eating him whole. 

But he’d let the hope grow.

He thought he had successfully protected Lucas, played a part in it at least. Thought Jaebum’s reorganization of the Bureau and Zhou’s promotion was finally setting things right. Thought Sicheng’s very existence - his kindness, intelligence, and beauty that persisted despite his struggles - was proof that some heavenly power did exist, that  _ goodness  _ was real after all.

Thought he could be good again. 

Yuta had let the hope grow, let himself dream, and now he would pay for it.

Yuta doesn’t know how many days pass until he’s led out of his cell one morning and ushered into a prison wagon. He slumps against the wooden bars as they travel through the streets and keeps his head bowed when they arrive at an imposing complex that resembles a tidier Bureau. The official leading their pitiful procession orders the guards to hold him outside until he comes back out to fetch Yuta, bringing him into a surprisingly small hall compared to the size of the entire complex.

“This is the accused, sir.”

Yuta glances up through his too-long hair, bleary eyes focusing on the man seated at the front of the hall. He wears the tall black hat of a magistrate, and Yuta belatedly realizes that he must be at the Grand Court of Justice.

As the proceedings carry on, the legal jargon flies over Yuta’s head, his unfamiliarity with the language and the haze over his mind making it impossible for him to understand what the officials are saying. He catches a mention of Bao’s name, and Zhou’s when he steps up to recount the events of the incident. 

The folded piece of parchment he offers up causes the magistrate to fall silent, and Yuta peeks up curiously. The magistrate’s brows furrow as he re-reads the paper.

“This is directly from Kim Doyoung.”

“Yes, sir.” Zhou replies.

“The 3rd Prince’s advisor. How do I know this is real?”

“Advisor Kim said that his words could be confirmed by Prince Jaebum or Minister Kim, sir.”

The magistrate hesitates, whispering to a fellow official before nodding. “I will validate this testimony then. And the accused’s wound?”

A guard kneels by Yuta, moving to touch his injured arm and Yuta is aware enough to flinch away, alarmed. 

“Officer Nakamoto, he needs to examine your arm.” The magistrate orders.

The guard unties the now-dirty cloth binding Yuta’s upper arm and another man, presumably a doctor, kneels down to examine the wound. 

“The wound is deep, sir, and would have been fatal near the heart or neck.”

The magistrate nods. “Wait here. I will make my decision shortly.”

The hall is silent as the magistrate studies the papers, writing down his verdict on a separate scroll. Yuta twitches when he feels a stinging sensation on his arm, glancing down to see that the doctor has begun to treat his wound. 

His mind wanders off again, distancing himself from the pain, and when he comes back, there’s a lower-ranking official standing in front of him, reading from a scroll.

“-thirty lashes to be received in the square.”

At the guard’s forceful hand on his back, Yuta bows, mumbling his thanks before he’s hoisted to his feet and led back to the wagon.

Days later, Yuta’s hands are bound to a wooden post by rope. When the whip lands on his back for the twentieth time, the haze over his mind clears for a brief moment as his skin breaks apart with a scream. He registers the audience gathered below the platform.  _ Don’t let the children see. Or Sicheng. _

The next thing he can recall is lying face down his bed at the Bureau, soft voices murmuring in the background. 

“He got off easy. Probably didn’t want to bother with all the royal involvement.”

Something cool is laid over his burning back and Yuta groans at the sensation. 

“Ge? Ge, are you awake?”

There’s clattering as a basin is set down and a stool is dragged across the wooden floor.

“Yukhei? Why are you here?” Yuta struggles to crack an eye open.

“I saw the beating! And then I realized that it was you, and then I had to come.”

Yuta groans. “If you get caught kid, I swear to the heavens.”

Yukhei shakes his head quickly, eyes wide. “I won’t ge, I promise! Zhou ge helped me.”

Yuta groans in weak acknowledgement, resting his head back down on the cot. Yukhei hastily resumes soaking the cool cloths to lay over Yuta’s back, the quiet in the room interrupted only by the repetitive splashes of water. 

The haze settles over Yuta’s mind again, until Yukhei clears his throat hesitantly. “Ge? What did you do?”

Yuta tenses, sending new rivulets of red down his back, which Yukhei quickly soaks up.

“I killed someone.” Yuta whispers, throat drying. “I killed Bao.”

“Oh ge,” Yukhei says sympathetically. “I’m so sorry.”

Yuta is thankful when Yukhei doesn’t push, just continues to treat his back somberly.

“Don’t forget what’s required of you to survive, Yukhei.” Yuta murmurs before he drifts off into unconsciousness. “Don’t make the same mistake as me.”

***

“You were right.” Doyoung says in Kaijing City, when Jaehyun had knocked on the door to Doyoung’s room after dinner, bearing a tray of tea.

“I know Jungho.” Jaehyun sighs. “And I know Jaebum.”

The unspoken phrase hangs over them in silence.  _ Know your enemies. _

“Do you think Jaebum will listen to your advice again?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think he will have a choice. Officer Bao’s wound isn’t shallow and even if that doesn’t kill him, Jungho will, to silence him.”

Doyoung nods somberly. “The case will be handed to a lower-ranking magistrate, who won’t bother opposing the royal backing for Officer Nakamoto. Even without Bao’s confession, he likely will not receive a heavy punishment.”

“And even if the case is drawn out and handed up, there’s Magistrate Do.”

Doyoung nods, placing his teacup down. “Speaking of the courts, Jaehyun, I stumbled upon some documents a few months ago. Are you familiar with the trafficking case from a few years ago?”

Jaehyun scrunches his nose. He had been away from the capital at the time, but when he had returned, the entire court had been in turmoil. Led by the Minister of Defense at the time, many high-ranking officials in the bureaucracy had been complicit in trafficking women, many of them young girls, from conquered territories into the capital’s wealthiest manors and most lucrative brothels. The scheme had been unprecedentedly complex, so deeply buried in the court that there had been only a precious few officials that were unscathed, which was why the bureaucracy was now filled with so many young minds.

“We thought we had pulled out all its roots, turning the bureaucracy upside down with all the investigations and trials, but it turns out we still weren’t thorough enough.” Doyoung says, reminding Jaehyun that Doyoung had played a major role in cleaning up the mess despite his young age.

Doyoung beckons Jaehyun over to the long desk, where several records are spread out.

“I found this while I was preparing for this trip,” he says, pointing to a family tree. Jaehyun nods, remembering the piles and piles of records detailing the lineage of the wealthy Southern families. “Look there.”

Jaehyun squints at the tiny characters, tracing the branch Doyoung had pointed out until he reaches a blurred out name. 

“Here are older records of the Shen family,” Doyoung hands him another version of the same family lineage. 

“Shen Jiaxin,” Jaehyun reads. His brow furrows at the familiar-sounding name.

“I had to do some digging,” Doyoung continues, flipping rapidly through his piles.

_ Jiaxin… _

“Ah here-”

“Jia Xi.” Jaehyun interrupts. “Did he change his name to Jia Xi?”

Doyoung turns around and blinks, surprised. “How did you know that?”

“I remember playing with him when we were little. Jia Xi, he talked a lot about his aunts in the South.” Jaehyun realizes. “He’s the same age as Jaebum.”

“And do they still get along?”

“No. Jaebum’s circle has always been very exclusive.” 

Doyoung nods slowly, brow furrowing. Jaehyun lets him think in silence, sensing the rapid whirling of his mind that never ceases to astonish him.

“That is something to consider,” Doyoung finally says. “But let me explain the rest of the information I’ve found. You may know that he is Minister Jia of the Ministry of Public Works now, he was promoted only about a year ago.

“I suspect that he was removed from the recent family trees to escape accusations of corruption and bribery - with his level of involvement with the trafficking case, the only way he was able to escape association likely had to do with the Shen family pulling some strings.”

Jaehyun frowns. “Yet he’s a minister now?”

“Yes, I thought that was off too,” Doyoung says, a pleased glint in his eye from how quickly Jaehyun had caught on. “But now that you’ve mentioned a connection to the capital’s circle of nobles and royals, perhaps there is an explanation to be discovered there.

“Either way, that doesn’t change my original plan. Minister Jia is reliant on the Shen family’s backing and would find it difficult to go against their wishes. Once we arrive in Changsha, I plan to request an audience with the Shen family, pressure them into convincing Minister Jia to step down.”

“And if they don’t agree?” Jaehyun asks.

Doyoung’s voice is heavy with finality. “We will take it to the Department of Justice and request a reopening of the trafficking case.”

Their arrival in Changsha a few weeks later is met with the typical enthusiasm and celebration that Doyoung has gotten used to along their route from the capital towards the South. This time, however, Doyoung leads his own horse, instead of peering out through the small windows of the carriage. 

He’d long learned that the smallest details made the largest differences when it came to diplomacy, and Doyoung wasn’t willing to take any chances with the nobles here. The Shen family would be unlikely to take a young advisor seriously, much less one they perceived as sickly, so Doyoung had insisted on riding horseback right behind Jaehyun until they entered the city. 

Now, as they walk through the streets, Doyoung holds his head up high and his shoulders back, the etiquette he’d been taught from young helping him exude the grace expected of a royal advisor despite his instinctive discomfort under the gaze of so many strangers.

Contrary to Doyoung’s politely reserved presence, Jaehyun thrives amidst the praise and calls of his name, effortlessly charming with his easy smiles and genuine desire to connect with his people shining through his every action. There’s no doubt that the emperor’s seat is divinely mandated to be his.

When they arrive in the city square, the magistrate is already waiting for them with an entourage of officials and soldiers. 

“3rd Prince,” The magistrate greets with a low bow. “It’s my honor to welcome you to the humble city of Changsha.”

“The honor is all mine, Magistrate Yao,” Jaehyun greets kindly. “Thank you for welcoming us so warmly, I’ve heard great things about the administration here.”

Doyoung observes as Magistrate Yao’s chest puffs up with pride at the prince’s praise and his eyes take on a hopeful glint.

“This is my advisor, Kim Doyoung,” Jaehyun introduces, “and this is General Seo Youngho of the 5th Division. We will be in your care during our stay here.”

Doyoung and General Seo bow politely, but as Doyoung straightens, he sees Magistrate Yao’s narrowed eyes shift quickly away from him. He sighs internally. 

Despite Changsha’s grandeur and its importance to the empire as one of the South’s largest cities, a regional magistrate position still could not compare to the status of even the lowest imperial official.  _ Perhaps this system could be reformed _ , Doyoung muses, before blinking in surprise. 

It had been a long while since he’d last had these idealistic thoughts about the empire’s future, quickly realizing upon entering the bureaucracy that corruption ran too deep and often wasn’t worth the cost of uncovering. But something about watching Jaehyun’s care for his empire during this trip had caused Doyoung to start wondering again, unconsciously formulating a vision of a prosperous, just empire.

He’s startled out of his thoughts when General Seo taps his arm, realizing with a blush that their delegation has started moving again, preparing to settle in for the evening. Doyoung thanks the General with an embarrassed smile before hurrying over to Jaehyun.

“Magistrate Yao said that we could stay in this empty manor, since it’ll be large enough to accommodate all the troops and it’s only slightly outside of the city.” Jaehyun informs him.

“The old Zhang manor,” Doyoung says.

“Of course you know.”

Doyoung returns his smile impishly. “It’s quite literally my job to know everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: i made up the legal process here for brevity. in most dynasties, the Ministry of Justice was separate from the highest court of law (大理寺/Da Li Si, which I’ll refer to as the Grand Court of Justice since i couldn’t find an official translated name, please let me know if you do though!)
> 
> thank you so much for reading! your comments and kudos have really kept me going through this block i'm in TT
> 
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	16. burning cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *SCREAMS* this chapter literally took me 5 months to write idek what it even says anymore so uh hope y'all enjoy?

“What do you think? Sir Dong?”

Sicheng blinks, realizing that he had zoned out again. It’d been weeks since he’d spoken to anyone other than Donghyuck, anxiously waiting for news about Renjun, then for Yuta after his sudden disappearance. When he’d nearly worn the floorboards thin with his pacing, Donghyuck had urged Sicheng to meet with Jungwoo, hoping to distract his preoccupied mind.

Not that it worked. Sicheng dips his head. “I apologize, Prince. Could you repeat your question?”

Ever so sweet, Jungwoo just smiles patiently, “I was wondering if I should give Qian laoshi this landscape painting or this sketch of chickens.” He holds up each scroll, eyes sparkling with hope.

Sicheng ponders the drawings and tries to remember why this Qian laoshi would want a sketch of chickens. And what did he teach again?

“The chickens would be the more predictable choice I think,” Jungwoo continues as Sicheng studies the paintings, begging them to clue him in on the conversation. “But he mentioned that he misses the sights of Fuzhou.”

“Is Qian laoshi from Fuzhou?” Sicheng asks, still racking his brain.

Jungwoo nods. “Yes, his family is still there but he’s been living in the capital for a long time.”

Just like Sicheng. A bitter taste lingers on his tongue with his next sip of tea, but he tries for a smile. “I think either would be lovely, Prince, but the brushstrokes for the chickens’ feathers are so detailed and I’m sure Qian laoshi would appreciate that.”

The corners of Jungwoo’s lips curl up in barely concealed pride. “You think so? Jaemin liked my chickens too, he said he could tell that they were the ones Qian laoshi bought!”

 _Ah, right, that’s why he drew chickens_. 

“I’d bring you to see them,” Jungwoo chirps, “but you seem tired, Sir Dong. I apologize for not noticing earlier, I was too excited.”

Sicheng shakes his head vehemently, reprimanding himself for being so obvious. “Oh no, Prince, please do not apologize, it was my fault for not providing my full attention.”

Jungwoo smiles kindly. “I’ll walk you back to your quarters, Sir Dong.”

Back in the isolation of his cottage, the silence sits heavily on Sicheng’s shoulders as his mind wanders far beyond the palace walls, no cheerful chatter to pull it back. Had Renjun healed since the banquet? Who was taking care of him? Was he still in the Huang manor? What about Yuta? Where did he go? 

Were they still alive?

Sicheng brushes away that last thought with a hard swallow. He hasn’t felt this lost since he was a sixteen year old boy, a stranger to the winding corridors and whispered schemes within the Imperial Palace. And now he regrets the way he’d locked himself up in his room, scared and lonely and so, so naive. He wishes he’d learned how to sneak through the gardens and over the roofs like Yuta. He wishes he’d sharpened his mind until it was an unyielding, fearsome spear like Doyoung’s. He wishes he’d never let go of his baby brother, never smiled and waved goodbye on the cobblestone streets as Renjun was ushered into a carriage.

Because it was all too late now. Renjun had been hurt months ago, a _sword_ through his shoulder, and there was still no news. Sicheng had waited patiently at first, reassuring himself that it’d take a while before Renjun had the privacy to scratch out a note, but then days had turned into weeks and there was still no paper nestled under the lotus cakes that Donghyuck brought from the kitchens.

Sicheng had gotten desperate enough to ask Yuta for his help, asking Donghyuck to keep an eye out for the officer around the palace grounds while he prepared enough tea for two each night, but then Yuta had disappeared too, for longer than any of his past missions had taken.

With Doyoung out of the capital as well, Sicheng realized that he had rendered himself helpless after all these years. He had no knowledge of the capital - didn’t even know where the Huang Manor or the Bureau’s barracks were - no way to sneak out of the palace, and too few allies that he could trust.

And Sicheng is no stranger to worry, a fragment of his heart and mind miles away in the Huang Manor for every year that he’s been in the palace, but this is different. It’s guilt, relentlessly gnawing in his chest, and it’s hopelessness, settling heavily, coldly in his gut.

***

“She is not agreeing to that.”

Doyoung flexes his fingers underneath the long sleeves of his robe. Not a ripple on the surface.

“Lady Shen, I understand that it is a very difficult situation-”

The noblewoman shakes her head firmly, placing a manicured hand on the old woman’s silk-claden shoulder. “Madam Shen is firm on her stance.”

The old woman lifts her head slowly upon hearing her title, blinking her hazy eyes. Lady Shen allows her a smile, red lips curling demurely. “Madam, you must be tired. Would you like to return to your chambers to rest?”

Doyoung’s heart pangs when the old woman smiles toothlessly, helpless and trusting. At Lady Shen’s beckoning, two servants rush in to escort Madam Shen out of the hall and Doyoung bows deeply as she totters away.

When he’s left along with Lady Shen and her servants, Doyoung steels his heart again. “Lady Shen, please understand the severity of this situation. Minister Jia has entangled himself in a scheme far deeper than many realize.” He pauses before adding. “I am sure Madam Shen would like to protect her grandson.”

Lady Shen stiffens and Doyoung notices how her fingers clench tightly under her long violet sleeves. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Advisor.”

Doyoung keeps his face blank even as his opponent fractures. “Let me elucidate. You may remember the trafficking case from several years ago, where many bureaucrats were found guilty of creating and sponsoring a prostitution ring in the capital with the Empire’s funds. When this case was brought to the Department of Justice with a mountain of hard evidence, the magistrates did not hesitate to instill the harshest punishments upon these officials, no matter their rank, wealth, or family name.” Doyoung notes the way Lady Shen’s sleeves are beginning to tremble and how her eyes dart nervously towards the door. He continues. “Many were enslaved, exiled, or executed. Their crimes brought down entire families and the bureaucracy was turned upside down. We were taught to be merciless and you will find that to be true in practice.”

Lady Shen’s knuckles are white on the back of the Shen family’s seat but Doyoung waits patiently, as still as a cool lake. 

When she finally speaks, she turns away, struggling to keep her voice steady. “I believe you have misunderstood. The Shen family has no ties to anyone involved in the case.”

Doyoung raises his eyebrow at her blatant denial. “Lady Shen, you must understand what is at stake. Your family-”

Lady Shen turns back to Doyoung, drawing herself up. “My family has no ties to anyone involved in the case. There is no Shen in the bureaucracy.”

Doyoung maintains her challenging gaze silently, even as disbelief courses through him. Was she truly so audacious? Was she so obstinate as to abandon her nephew and place her family at Doyoung’s mercy? Where was the loyalty and kinship the Southern nobility held so dearly? Or had Doyoung miscalculated?

“Lady Shen, I will ask you to reconsider one last time.”

Lady Shen returns his gaze coldly. “My decision is final. Advisor Kim, I believe you have overstayed your welcome in my home. Please escort him out.”

The guards at the door move to grab Doyoung but he raises his hand. “I am fully capable of leaving on my own. Lady Shen, I sincerely regret that we were not able to reach a compromise.” 

Despite his inner turmoil, Doyoung bows deeply, a product of his upbringing, and exits the manor without a backward glance.

As his carriage wobbles through the streets of Changsha, Doyoung is caught between shock and frustration. Although he’d been prepared with a backup plan, he hadn’t expected the Shen family to turn down his offer. He thought he’d made it exceptionally clear that the entire family would suffer should the trafficking case be reopened but Lady Shen had still refused. 

Doyoung leans his head back against the wood. Lady Shen had clearly been distressed by Minister Jia’s involvement so Doyoung couldn’t have been mistaken about his true identity. And he doubted that she would so willingly endanger her entire family when she was dependent on their power as well. Did that mean she was confident in the Shens’ ability to circumvent imperial orders then? For their good, Doyoung hoped she wasn’t so bold. The court had changed in recent years - _that_ he had not been exaggerating.

He’s drawn out of his musing when his carriage finally rolls to a stop in front of the old Zhang manor. Despite not being occupied for years, the manor was still in good condition and Doyoung had taken a particular liking to the sprawling, overgrown gardens. He heads there now, hoping to organize his thoughts before speaking with Jaehyun.

Right as he’s about to cross through the courtyard though, he sees Magistrate Yao hurrying out of the main hall accompanied by another provincial official.

“-easy to convince,” Doyoung hears the magistrate say as they near him. He hastily ducks into an empty room, peeking through the door. 

“This new generation of royalty has become soft. If the prince isn’t careful, more heinous men than me will be robbing him of the entire imperial troves!” The magistrate shakes his head in mocking sadness.

The other official chuckles. “Congratulations Magistrate. I’m sure Lady Yao will be happy to hear about this extra allowance.”

The two men’s laughs echo softly through the corridor as they exit the courtyard.

By the time they pass him, Doyoung is seething. While he’s used to seeing bureaucratic corruption and arrogance, he’s astounded by the sheer amount he’s encountered during his stay in his South. Most of all, he’s furious that Jaehyun, with his kindness and hope and goodness, will be - no, already is - at the brunt of it.

When Jaehyun opens his door later that evening, changed out of his elaborate formal wear and into a set of soft worn robes, Doyoung _aches_.

The waning sunlight floods into the room and dances across Jaehyun’s face, casting his features in warm yellows and golds. They blaze across brow and grace the sharp line of his nose before dipping into his dimples, shadows pooling in the depths. 

Entranced, Doyoung’s eyes trace the light’s path before landing on the soft curve of his cupid’s bow. He hastily wrenches his gaze back up and _oh_. 

His breath catches in his throat.

Jaehyun’s brown eyes glow softly from the inside, as if he’s captured the last rays of the sun itself in his gaze. 

And Doyoung is no better than an insect, helplessly trapped in the amber as time slows to a stop.

And in that moment, as the golden specks of dust swirl through the air and Jaehyun’s eyes crinkle into crescents and his chest aches in a way he’s never felt before, Doyoung decides. 

He sheds the cloak of mercy. He burns all the moving pieces. He lets go, and the puzzle in his mind locks together, bound by cold determination and fiery loyalty.

_This must change._

“The Shen family refused.”

Jaehyun’s face falls and Doyoung burns.

_For him._

“We will reopen the case.”

The smile that spreads across Jaehyun’s face holds a thousand burning sunsets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmk what you thinkkk <3
> 
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> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/chensdaes)  
> [character aesthetics](https://twitter.com/kyeomdae/status/1275127624948305921?s=20)


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